


Guns and Roses

by Mistressaq



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Western, Emetophobia, Enemies to Friends, F/F, Face-Sitting, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbianism, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sick Character, Snakes, Tags May Change, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:59:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17246297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistressaq/pseuds/Mistressaq
Summary: It’s a manhunt for an unknown suspect! Violet’s daddy wants the criminal who robbed one of his trains brought to justice! And to help track down the robber, he’s recruited sharpshooter, and former outlaw, Katya. To track down their guy, the outlaw and the heiress will have to try and get along in the great, lawless landscape of the American Southwest. But working together gets complicated when more people are added to the party.





	1. Big Black Train

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a re-upload from a fic I wrote last year. I'm trying to get back into it, so showing this story some love will be appreciated! 5 chapters were written last year, so I have that many on standby.

The railcar was ornate in ways Miss Katya Zamo had never before seen. She had been on a train before, of course, but on a common transport car with the other simple folk. Then she had not known any other sort of life existed, other than poor and immigrant. Not only would Katya not have had the coin to support a stay in such a place, but her name and accent would have denied access to this upper crust world as well.  Things change, she supposed.

The walls and windows were trimmed with dark wood, hand chiseled into fleur-des-lis, crowns and diamonds. The framings shone when light hit the protective varnish. Gilt outlines boxed her in, one-of-a-kind wallpaper portraying all the monochrome purples of an iris field. Lush carpet beneath her boots reminded Katya of packed grass, the kind a herd would mow to stubs in a day.

Cabinets lined one side of the traincar, situated on them an assortment of treats the like of which Katya didn’t so much as have names for. There was a wide sofa, a mahogany bureau, and a bed big enough for a king in the car as well, all bedecked in expensive-looking furnishings. Frankly, it hurt to look at all at once.

She leaned back on the goosefeather sofa and kicked her feet up on the ash coffee table. It was all overwhelming, but still, she could get used to this.

Miss Violet snapped her dainty fingers at her, eyes pointed icily.

“Apologies.” Katya grinned and pulled her feet off the table. “I forget my manners.”

“If you ever had any to begin with,” sassed Violet. “And why are you even wearing those,” she pointed at Katya’s work boots. “We won’t be on horseback for another day at least.”

Katya did not say _I wear them because they are my only shoes._  She did not say anything.

Katya observed as the young lady fluttered this way and that like a dancer, arranging a tea set and biscuits and little itty bitty cakes. That was another thing Katya had discovered only since her interactions with Violet’s daddy -- all type of lovely confectionaries had been kept from her. It really was good to have friends in high places.

Her Sensible thinking voice chirped up. She’d been managing to stuff that voice down so far, but after being in the first class car for about an hour, she was running out of things to think about that weren’t the feeling in her gut. The feeling that all this was only temporary, that it would all be pulled out from under her soon enough. She’d be on her own again after the job was done. Yes, that ransom money would be nice, if she ever got to see any of it. Katya had no clue how much she owed the auger, how much she’d have left once her debt was settled.

A train employee came in with a fresh tea kettle. Katya could hear its scream petering out like a dying bird. Violet jumped towards the man, frightening him. Some water fell from the nozzle and splattered on Violet’s foot.

“OOOOOOOOH YOU IMBECILE!” screamed Miss Violet, jumping up and down as she held her foot. The worker set the kettle on one of the countertops. Katya noticed he was shaking his arm -- there was more water on him than there was on Violet. Katya briefly considered attending to the man, but Violet was already swatting him out of the car. “I DON’T EVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN!”

She slammed the door and huffed.

Katya arched an eyebrow. “How is your foot?”

Violet glared at her and stomped her other, uninjured foot. “Get up.”

Katya was about to question or sass the heiress, but when Violet approached the sofa, she stood aside. She did not protest when Violet put her own foot on the expensive wood table. She did not ask _why can you if I cannot?_ Miss Katya was too smart for that. Equality is a lie. People like Katya and people like Violet were not born equal, were not born with the same unalienable rights. She read the early American writings, as well as the current laws. Certain immigrants need not apply for certain jobs. They would not be let inside the employer’s walls let alone given work. Even if they worked they would not earn the same wages as their natural born brothers. This was the way of things, and it would not change anytime soon. Violet was born to rule, Katya to serve. It was believing she could rule that landed her in this mess.

Katya strolled over to the kettle and poured what was left of the contents into the delicate china Violet had set out. The porcelain was free of stains or chips, and every piece matched the others. There were designs inside each teacup, buried when filled. Beauty hidden by purpose.

“Two sugars,” said Violet from the sofa.

Katya followed instruction. “Cream, Miss?”

“Just bring it here,” said Violet. “You’ll never do it right.”

Katya painted a serene smile on her lips and turned to her companion. She carefully observed Violet’s every action, amazed by how she always managed to move like a ballerina on a music box. Even her eyelashes fell with grace and poise.

They shared their tea in silence, but for the constant rumble of the train outside and the occasional sigh from Violet. When Katya figured they had been on the train for three hours, she opened her favorite dog-eared text.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Reading the Good Book?”

“No.” Katya said nothing more, leaving Violet to tilt her head and try to read the binding.

“D..Dos...Dust?” questioned the heiress. “The hell is that?”

“Dostoyevsky,” Katya corrected almost robotically. Then she looked up. “Such classless language from such a proper lady.”

Violet scoffed. “I may be a rich bitch, but trust me, I am _not_ a proper lady.” She looked away. “Just ask my dad. Or my nurse. Or my dad’s new wife. Or any big-wig back east.”

Katya lowered her book to watch Violet more closely. She spoke with the bitterness of a woman scorned, but she was so young. She was young and native born and white and rich. What could she possibly have to hate the world for at her age?

“Well if it is any consolation,” leveled Katya. “ _I_ see you as a proper lady.”

Violet made a face as if about to make a retort, but didn’t. Instead, she sat staring, eyeing Katya over, up, down and back again as if inspecting a horse she planned to buy. Katya buried her attention in her book to keep her discomfort from showing.

_The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he’s in prison._

“I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” Violet said quietly.

Katya looked up to see the heiress extending a smooth, pale hand. Just by looking it over she could tell her companion had not done a day’s work in her life. But it was a peace offering, a chance to spend the coming months with a woman who did not clearly hate her. She gave it a hearty shake, and Violet smiled.

“This venture,” Violet bagan. “Is meant to be completed within a reasonable timeframe.”

Katya nodded. Those were the exact words Violet’s father had used when describing their mission.

Violet continued “It’s vague, but my guess is a few months.”

“Oh, at _least_ ,” Katya said. “To catch a thief whose sin was committed months ago in the wilderness of the American West -- on horseback alone our man could be anywhere by this time.”

Violet nodded. “It’s gonna be a while, so my thought is, since you’re the woman for the job and I’m your handler...” she was inching ever closer to Katya. “We should get better acquainted with one another.”

Katya was unsure of Violet as a person, other than the fact that she was gorgeous in every way Katya would have previously dismissed. Back In the Day she would have contrasted the appeal of a rough-and tumble gal unafraid to get her boots dirty with the prissy and spoiled stereotype of privileged girls like Violet. But the second Katya had seen Violet in her father’s office, seen her sharp lines and bold attitude, she knew this city girl had more to her than met the eye.

Violet, silently leaning further toward Katya, gazed deeply into the Russian’s eyes. Katya raised a hand. Violet stilled, as if preparing to be pushed back. Instead, Katya traced a line over Violet’s left cheekbone (She was thin for a rich girl), back to her ear, and down to her jawline. Violet closed her eyes at the touch. Katya watched gooseflesh crawl up the girl’s arm and wondered what a little more touch could do.

Suddenly Katya grabbed hold of Violet’s neck, pressing on her windpipe just enough to make her uncomfortable. Violet’s eyes snapped open in alarm, flashing to the Russian. One look into Katya’s glimmering eyes told her it was a game, a power play. Violet surrendered.

Suddenly Katya was kissing her, kissing the heiress, open-mouthed and vulgar. Violet not only allowed it, as the virginal country girls did, Violet took _active part_ in this play. She ran her long, thin fingers through Katya’s newly-washed hair, gripped Katya’s waist through her paisley shirt, leaned her body across Katya’s, inviting her to take it further.

Further take it Katya did. Violet was a liberal young lady who wore skirts short enough to see her stockings beneath. They’d garnered some heavy stares in the process of boarding the train. Violet liked the eyes on her, Katya knew it. She _liked_ to be gawked at, noticed. Katya would bet that Violet would love nothing more than for an attendant to come in unannounced and find the two of them tangled up in each other.  

With no sign of stopping and the temperature of the car only rising, Katya tugged at the knotted leather cords of Violet’s corset. Violet returned the favor, prying the neckerchief from under Katya’s collar and flinging it across the room. The train charged along the tracks at a speeding pace as the outlaw and the heiress undressed each other. Katya’s shirt came clean off, revealing the girdle she always wore beneath to cage her femininity. When Violet pried the cloth down and Katya’s breasts fell out, she saw the heiress’ eyes go wide taking all of her in.

Katya leaned back on her wrists, breathing heavily from all the excitement (and to keep Violet staring). She was unable to hide the smirk from her lips. “Y’know, missy, it’s rude to gape,” she said in an excellent recreation of a southwestern accent.

Violet dragged her eyes from Katya’s body back up to her face. There was a shaft of sunlight falling directly over Katya’s suntanned skin, giving her an almost unearthly glow. Violet swallowed hard. _She can’t know what she does to me,_ thought the heiress. _Say something snarky_! “Where were you hiding those?” Violet pointed to Katya’s chest. “And _why_?”

Katya chuckled and her breasts jiggled. It was all Violet could do to not immediately jump into Katya and smother her face in the blonde’s chest.

“While my raging femininity may be fun in these moments, it does not do a rider well to have melon-sized breasts bouncing all around when trying to cross the country or herd cattle or… do any ranch work really.”

Violet tilted her head, picturing Katya on the back of a stallion, riding nude through fields of grass like Lady Godivah.

Katya _tsk-_ ed. “Naughty girl, you are imagining it!”

Violet chuckled, willing her face not to flush. By the look on Katya’s face, she was unsuccessful. “Right,” said Violet, securing herself by the back of the sofa. Her skirt was bunched up around her thighs and she pulled it out of the way to let her straddle Katya. She stared deeply into Katya’s sky blue eyes. “Back to business,” she said as she started to swing her hips, barely touching Katya with her body.

Katya hummed in approval. With a glint in her eyes, Violet slowed her pace. Katya grabbed her hips, the pressure of her fingers sending waves through Violet. These were no rich boy’s hands, or the controlling fingers of a well-dressed stranger. Katya’s touch was like nothing Violet had known before. Her hands were worn, calloused, direct yet gentle. They got the job done, and did so with care. As one of those hands snaked its way up Violet’s thigh, she found herself shuddering.

She should have been devilish, should have fought back when Katya took her by the waist and flipped her so she was defenseless, back arching into an expensive couch. Violet should have had something to say, like she did to whomever else she lifted her dress. “ _You call that a fuck, Donovan?” “I hope you treat your wife better than your mistresses, Charles.”_ _“Oh, Carmen you are so naive. You will hold no man if this is how you perform on your wedding night.”_ Violet felt powerful that way, when her words cut someone at their most vulnerable. When she knew the next time they would be post-coital, instead of basking in the glow, they would remember her, and how she had made them feel worthless.

Violet had not the strength to insult Katya’s technique. The Russian massaged her heat in intervals, pushing her up, then bringing her back down. Trading off with one hand, Katya stuck a wet finger between her lips, driving Violet’s already buzzing body wild when she closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Blonde hair fell everywhere, and Violet thought it was like woven gold shining above her. Her mouth was dry from the many times she had gasped her companion’s name.

Katya kept going, pulling one hand away from her mouth and replacing it with the other after pawing Violet like it was the last thing she would ever do.

Violet was seeing stars, her entire body so hot and wet and aroused she thought she might explode. “Katya,” she breathed. “Nearly there.”

Then. Katya stopped.

Violet’s eyes shot open. Katya wasn’t even looking at her! Was this her plan? To torture Violet by teasing her all the way to the brink? Something was said, but Violet’s fevered state deafened her. She plunged her own hand to her wetness-- she’d finish herself.

Katya nudged her. Violet ignored it.

“I SAID HANDS IN THE AIR!”

Violet snapped back to reality. The door was open, but instead of an attendant barging in, there stood a man in dirty coveralls, a wide brimmed hat and a bandana over his nose and mouth. And he was holding a shotgun.


	2. Young Guns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet and Katya find themselves held at gunpoint on their train out West by a band of ruffians. Katya shows exactly why she was chosen to lead their mission, and Violet is determined to stay strong against the shock of her first glimpse of the lawless violence of the West

 Violet’s stomach dropped, and not in a good way. The dirty stranger in the doorway had her looking down both barrels of his shotgun.

One hell of a boner killer, that’s for sure.

She raised her hands, like the gunman said, and tried very very hard not to scream. The gunman tilted his hips and took a half step toward the women on the couch. He lowered his weapon a few inches and Violet relaxed the tiniest bit.

Katya smirked. With one quick shove, Violet tumbled off the couch with a shriek. The movement and the noise distracted the gunman for three seconds, just enough time for Katya to reach under the couch, grab her saddlebag, pull her pistol, unclick the hammer and point. Violet’s head was dangerously close to the front end of her gun, so she warned her companion. “Fire!”

Violet plugged her ears just as Katya pulled the trigger. The gunman turned back to Katya a second too late. 22 millimeters of smoking hot lead dropped their intruder to the fancy carpet.

Katya hauled her saddlebag out from its hiding place and pawed around inside. Violet breathed heavily and tried not to look at the dead man on their floor or the red stain blossoming out from his head. “You…” her voice was barely a whisper. “You shot him.”

Katya dropped the empty cartridge  and slotted in a fresh one with a _click_. She didn’t even look at Violet. “Yep.” Hauling herself to her feet, Katya squared her bare shoulders as if preparing for a mission.

Violet swallowed. Something was off -- the car sounded different. Silent. Within realizing that, it struck Violet: the gentle rhythm of the tracks had ceased. The train was stopped. “There’s gonna be more of them out there aren’t there?” Violet said with an air of dread.

“Most likely, yes.” Katya shimmied her garter back up her chest. Violet couldn’t move to try to help. She felt very cold all of a sudden.  

Katya shrugged her button-down back over her shoulders, but left it open. She slid her pistol into position and headed for the open door. “When I’m gone, you shut this and barricade it, and do not open it again until you hear my voice telling you to do so, do you understand?”

Violet felt shivers down her arms. Ten minutes ago, hearing Katya speak to her so forcefully would have been sexy, pleasurable. Now it made her want to cry.

 _No_ , she told herself. _You are Violet Chachki, daughter of a railroad baron, and the world bows down to you. You are not going to cry on a stopped train because you just watched a bad guy get killed._ She steeled her voice and squared her shoulders. “I understand.”

Katya nodded through her hair, which still hung around her face like a half-drawn yellow curtain.

Violet pressed her lips together. “Should I worry?”

“Well,” said Katya. “This magazine has exactly ten shots inside. So if you hear significantly more than that, be concerned.”

_____

_How many more of them will be out there?_

In Katya’s experience, to execute a train job like this, you’d need at least four. The party member who had so kindly introduced himself to them was no expert, likely first or second year running with the gang. If she was betting on a baseline of five, that put the Other Guys down to four. There’d be a few more low levels to go through before she hit the brains of the operation. If only there was a way to surprise them--

“Hey you!”

Katya had her pistol up before she locked eyes with the man in the bandolier. He cocked his gun and Katya fired hers, adding a hole in his face just above the guy’s left eyebrow.

 _One_.

Katya pumped her slider and elbowed her way into the next railcar. She scanned her surroundings. Cargo hold. Must not be anything valuable given the lack of armed guard. After making her way through another three empty cars, Katya was getting antsy.

“Alright fuckers,” she growled. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

_____

_Stay away stay away stay away!_

Violet paced around the car. She hadn’t heard shots in a while. What was happening out there? Better stay out there.

Her eyes flickered back to the dead guy. She hadn’t barricaded the door as Katya told her to. Her hands were shaking so bad she could barely keep hold of anything. Now Violet wished she’d asked Katya what to do with the body.

What might she say? Despite only knowing the woman for half a day, she already knew Katya was a no-nonsense roughened Western gal. _What do you think you do with a dead body? Snuggle up next to it at night? Get rid of it!_

Violet nodded and prepared herself to approach the corpse. How should she go about this? Grab his hands like he was passed out drunk? There was only one door in and out of the car--she’d have to get him through that somehow. Then what? Drop him off the railing and onto the tracks?

“ _Fuck_ ,” she breathed. “Okay, sir, let me hold your hands.”

One brush of her fingers against the man’s lukewarm skin had Violet rethinking her strategy. Her skin crawled with the thought of actually gripping a dead body and forcibly hauling it through the heavy wood door.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay…” Violet was still wearing her heels. Steel-toed in honor of her first mission as a cowgirl. She scoffed. What did she think would happen? It was called the Wild West for a reason. Law was different out here -- _morality_ was different out here. Her father, her old nanny, both had counseled her not to take this assignment lightly. But she was Violet. Untouchable, unreachable, perfect Violet.

And now she was kicking a corpse across blood-stained carpet toward a door she was supposed to barricade to protect herself from more criminals.

She got him through the threshold and onto the metal grating. Her heels caught in the gaps between the grates. Violet went to free them and found that she had blood on her shoes. Bile rose to her throat. She gave a final shove and the body fell fifteen feet to the tracks. Violet buckled forward and watched her afternoon tea spill to form a half-digested pile beside the corpse.

_____

The man was half dead already.

Katya peered into the transit car and saw a man in a ratty suit pacing the aisles of frightened middle class with a pistol. His clothes hung from him like those of a man who had lost 25 odd pounds fairly recently. His eyes were red-rimmed and he covered his mouth with a moustache. If he had been clean shaven, Katya would bet his lips were white. Classic consumption. When he coughed and spat blood at the paneled wall, Katya decided it would be a kindness to kill him now.

As the man recovered from his fit, Katya flung the door open and pointed at his bent head. His eyes flashed up toward her before she pulled the trigger. There was a scream at the noise from the huddled masses, then silence.

Stepping over his body, Katya could swear he looked relieved.

 _Two_.

_____

When Violet was able to catch her breath, she leaned back against the railing and looked up at the sky. The blue dome above her head seemed to be spinning, and sweat ran down the back of her neck despite her feeling cold. She swallowed past the lingering sour taste in her mouth and thought back on her life, trying to figure out how she got to this exact point.

She sat outside the door Katya had instructed her to barricade for a while. She wanted a smoke, but she’d left her things inside the train car and her body was so heavy she couldn’t make herself get up.

Then there was a rustling in the brush nearby. Violet’s eyes fluttered open, sensing movement. Something shifted out of the corner of her eye. Her heart sped. Far away a single gunshot startled Violet, distracting her. _Katya_. She breathed. It was just Katya.

She swallowed and slowly hauled herself to her knees, then lifted achingly with her calves until she was standing upright once again. Right. She popped her tongue. Shoulders back, hips wide, back arched, face sour. She was Violet motherfucking Chachki. She had been tasked with trekking the West with a former outlaw in an effort to find a criminal. She was not going to get scared off by the first bump in the road, was she? Fuck no. Maybe she wouldn’t even go back inside. Maybe she’d head into the next railcar, look for bad guys and kill them with their own belt--

Violet’s train of thought cut off when a rough pair of hands seized her from the side. One wrapped around her arm and the other her mouth. She squealed instinctively at the assault and flailed her free arm for balance, but it was no use. In an instant she was hauled down the cast iron steps and to the dusty ground. Something cold, metal and hollow, the size of a thumb pressed to the back of her head.

_____

Ruffians number three and four squabbled in the control car. They had the engineer, a thin older man, bound and gagged in the corner. It would have been loud up here if the engine had been running, but the train bandits had it completely shut off.

Katya tried to listen in to their conversation, but just by looking at their body language she knew there was dissention in the ranks.

A tall and lanky young man stood with his fists on his hips. His face was sweaty and his dark hair greasy. His poor belt was the only thing keeping his baggy (likely handed-down) pants around his hips. The cuffs exposed the man’s yellowed socks and his shirt sleeves stopped a few inches before his wrists. This was how Katya knew he had been in his outlaw camp for a year or so. Near impossible to find clothes to fit a man his height, they made do with what they could, but they cared enough to keep him clothed and somewhat clean.

He was obviously overcompensating, given his stance (he really didn’t need to be taking up that much space) as his companion was nearly two heads shorter than he. The girl only looked about fifteen. Her torso was covered by a tunic that had likely been meant as a dress for a much younger girl. She wore a brown classic work hat over white-blonde hair that framed her pink face. Under the tunic she wore denim pants with hastily sewn seams--they’d been altered to fit her small size. This was how Katya knew she was the favorite of the camp--she was allowed to dress up. Katya had known camps to let the children run around naked or under tarps when they couldn’t be bothered to find clothes for them.

The girl’s blue-grey eyes narrowed up at her cohort. Katya pressed her ear to the door.

“I talked it over with Pap this mornin’,” said the man, an air of high-and-mighty about him.

“Is that so?” The girl shifted her weight to her hip and twirled a shining revolver expertly around her finger.

The man tugged on the front of his shirt, smoothing over everpresent wrinkles. “Yeap. And Pap said to me -- he told me ‘Jasper,’ he says ‘you have proven ya’self to me, and I want you to make the calls when the time comes’.”

Katya wished she could see more of the girl’s expression -- what she did see was portrait-worthy. Her face pulled to one side, her eyes bored and blinking, utterly unimpressed by her comrade’s words.

“ _Did_ he tell you that, Jasper?” she asked, voice pitched to subtle condescension. “Look me in my eyes, brother and tell me again how much Pap trusts an oversized illiterate jackalope with a make-or-break mission like this.”

Jasper’s face seized like a fish on a dock, his bushy eyebrows swinging wildly. “You--you just call me stupid?”

The girls face remained unchanged. “If all your brains were dynamite you wouldn’t have enough to blow your own nose.”

Katya snorted a laugh into her sleeve. Oh, she was _so_ on Li’l Miss’s side.

The lass strode up to Jasper, a slender finger prodding his mid chest. “Yeah, Jasper, you must be stupid. Because only a dumbass would be able to forget what happened to the last man who tried to step in on _my_ mission.”

Katya was so focused on Jasper’s terrified face she didn’t notice until she heard the small click of a shell falling into place where the girl’s gun was pointed.

“Oh,” Katya couldn’t help but gasp. It was the wrong move--the girl heard and jumped to stance, punching Jasper where her gun had been.

Jasper crumpled to the floor like a sheet of paper and grunted “Dammit Pearl!”

 _Pearl_ , thought Katya. She’d heard that name before, but now was not the time to flip through her memories. She held out her pistol, the grip toward the girl, through the crack in the door to the engine room. It was a gamble, letting her hand be in the direct line of possible fire, but it was a risk Katya was willing to take, especially with the plan she was cooking up in her head.

“You see this?” Katya asked, projecting her voice through the door. She tilted it, hoping the emblem on the side would catch the light. “You know what it means?”

She waited a moment, and heard Jasper say in a choked voice “Just shoot ‘er Pearl!”

Katya smirked. She’d bought time just by having that idiot tell Pearl not to.

There was the sound of medium footfalls on the floor approaching Katya. She prayed to Whoever that she was right, and that Pearl would know her local history.

From the other side of the door, a slightly reverent monotone asked “This emblem mean what I think it does?”

Katya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “May I come in?”

Footsteps shifted on the other side, Pearl taking up her stance again. “Open it slow,” she directed, ignoring the protests of her injured brother.

Katya inched the door open so slowly the hinge creaked. She let her face be revealed last, build up the anticipation. Pearl had her revolver pointed at Katya. Katya merely smiled and slid past her, careful to make no sudden movements. She knew too well the reflexes of a quick draw often meant accidental wounding.

“I apologise for my appearance,” Katya relaxed back into her Russian accent, now that she had Pearl’s full attention. “I was enjoying myself in my cabin when I was rudely interrupted.” She flashed white teeth at the girl and noticed her flinch back in insecurity. Good teeth were uncommon in these parts, to say the least.

Pearl adjusted herself, placing her weight back on her small hip and repositioned her gun, still pointed directly toward Katya’s heart. “That emblem buys you time, so say your piece before I start listening to my brother again.”

Katya smiled again, unbothered by the barrel pointed her way. “How much do you think is in this train?” she asked. Pearl’s eyebrows quirked, but she made no reply. “Because,” said Katya. “Way I see it, one high class cabin, few cargo holds, a middle class transport car,” she clicked her tongue “doesn’t amount to much.”

Jasper glared at her. “Pap says there’s like to be seven hundred dollars you put ever’thing together!”

Katya nodded sweetly. “Seven hundred, good cash for a few shares.” She looked directly in Pearl’s eyes. Blue-grey like a coming storm. “But you have many friends, and leaders back at camp, no?” She saw Pearl’s face shift just the slightest bit. _You’ve got her, just keep reeling_. “And these people -- your people, they will all want piece of share, no?”

Jasper shook his head like a wet dog shakes out his fur. “If Ma would’a gave me my gun priv’leges back I’d ‘a shot the Ruskie myself by now.”

“You lost your guns when you almost shot your pecker off, imbecile,” Pearl snapped. “Now the Ruskie is actually talking sense so button it ‘fore I finish the job.” She waved her revolver in the direction of Jasper’s unmentionables. Keeping her weapon in her brother’s direction, she turned back to Katya. “So what’re you proposing?”

_____

“You make so much as a pip your brains are gonna be all over this here gravel, y’understand?”

Violet’s chills returned, her stomach clenching in blind fear. The man with the gun grabbed her hair and painfully yanked Violet’s head up out of the dust. “I _said_ d’y’understand?!”

Violet nodded quickly and silently. She hated the tears that ran down her face. Hated the way she whimpered when the man pulled and prodded at her body, the way her hands trembled when he tied them (Of course Violet had been tied up before, but she didn’t suspect this man cared for safe words). She hated the taste of the sweaty bandana when he shoved it in her mouth and gagged her with it. She hated the wetness leaking from the edges of her mouth, how she could barely swallow around the taste and the rag.

When the man grabbed her by the waist and tossed her across his shoulder, Violet couldn’t stifle her yelp. The man swung her around as punishment, and Violet tried to squeeze her eyes shut to block out the ground swinging below her. As a woman who had already thrown up in the last ten minutes, she felt more and more like she was going to hurl down the back of the man’s pants. And then, he’d likely hit her. Or just kill her.

She wanted to demand where she was being taken. Wanted to kick and scream and escape from the stranger’s arms. But Violet wasn’t stupid. If she tried any of that shit not only would any attempt at escape fail, she’d be killed for it.

_____

“Pearl, you can’t be thinkin’--”

“Shut up, Jasper.” Pearl holstered her gun and took a step towards Katya, her arms folded across her chest. “You’re saying I stop this holdup, free the engineer and all that--”

Katya nodded. “Let the journey continue. Your share of the cash will not be enough. You are special, worth much more than they pay you.” Pearl nodded. “Join me on quest. Fight bad guys. Get paid. Where you are, who you are with now, what service does it do you? Where will you end up if you stay on current path? In jail cell, unable to pay bail, and no one pays your bail because they are in jail cell too.”

Katya watched the gears in Pearl’s head turn exactly as she wanted them to. She knew the pitch was good. It had worked on her. She reached slowly for Pearl’s shoulder. When the girl resisted, Katya left her hand hanging in midair. “You should not be punished for being raised among people that end up in jail cells. You have a chance. _I_ had a chance.” Pearl let Katya look into her eyes again. “Learning to wield a weapon young, it is a useful skill. We should use our skills for our own good, yes? Not the good of those who use us for their good only.”

Pearl gave a little nod and opened her mouth as if to say something when a voice interrupted from outside.

“HEY! LESION!”

Pearl jumped and ran to open the emergency door that directly outside. The ground was around twenty feet below, flat desert taking up most of the horizon. A large burly man stood below the door, something slung over his shoulder. With a pang, Katya realized exactly who he was holding.

Pearl leaned against the doorframe. “What’cha got there, Morgan?”

The man -- Morgan -- patted his capture on the ass, eliciting a noise that was very familiar to Katya. She raked her fingers through her hair. _Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit_.

“Found a straggler!” Morgan yelled from the ground. “Suspiciously close to our newly departed cousin!”

“Who, Zeke?” asked Jasper.

“Naw, Clyde!”

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Aw, hell, Clyde? That’s nothing. And why didn’t you just kill the Jezebel?”

Katya winced.

“Came out that fancy cabin! Figured we could get good ransom on this one,” he said, patting Violet on the ass again. She struggled against him and he raised the butt of his gun right up to her reddened neck, threatening to silence her for good. “What’cha think, Pearl?”

Pearl slowly turned back to Katya, who was trying to plaster the disaffected look back on her face. The girl tilted her head. “Miss Priss comes out of your cabin,” she said softly, so only Katya could hear. “Here I was thinking I was special.”

“Oh, you are, _zvyozdochka_ ,” said Katya.

Pearl sent her revolver spinning intimidatingly around her little finger and tapped her foot impatiently. Her jaw set in a way that had Katya scrambling. “We need her for mission.”

“Thought you needed me.”

“I do, I do. Listen.” Katya reached again for the girl’s shoulders, and was met with a loaded revolver in her direction again. Katya took a deep breath and looked again into Pearl’s eyes. She spoke slowly again, and was careful to enunciate this time. She _needed_ Pearl to understand this. “I am on a mission. The woman your cousin holds is my employer’s insurance. She is with me to make sure I stay on course and that we both return to the augur, the man with the reward. Her name is Chachki.”

Pearl’s head tilted back and her gun arm relaxed. She returned to twiddling the shining metal around her slender fingers. “Chachki,” she repeated, thinking. “Like…”

“Like the name on the side of the train,” Katya finished. “And the name on the coal companies. And the name on the lumber mills. And the hotels back East.”

Pearl followed, stopping her gun between her fingers. “So I can’t let Morgan damage her.”

Katya shook her head.

“Because if we return without her…”

“We get nothing,” finished Katya.

Pearl squared her shoulders and looked back over to Morgan on the ground. “So there’s really only one way to do this.”

_____

Violet was already screaming when the gunshot went off. The blast was so close to her ears. Her entire face felt like a shock wave had gone off. She hadn’t even realized she was falling until her face hit the dirt and her kidnapper was suddenly on top of her. She squirmed out from under the man, who she got a glance of, shot precisely between the eyes. Bile rose to Violet’s throat and she looked away.

There was a ruckus back on the train but she couldn’t really muster up the ability to care. Violet was dirty and sweaty and she was still bound and gagged. She flailed her legs and somehow managed to get herself standing. Standing over the body of the guy who’d abducted and assaulted her. Still wearing her heels, Violet shuffled forward and kicked the man (what had the bitch called him, Morgan? Fuck his name, he didn’t deserve one) in the chest. She sent a jab to his knee with a grunt.

By the time Katya came up behind her, Violet was seeing complete red and the man was covered in bluish splotches and her heels had all but broken off. Katya’s hand on her shoulder startled her and Violet jumped back.

Katya’s eyes were earnest. “Sorry for frightening you.”

Violet panted and was about to offer a response when she remembered the cloth gag still attached to her face. Katya smiled apologetically, reaching out and pulling the bandana down and off.

Violet gasped. “Oh I swear I’ll kill that yellow-bellied bastard.”

Katya got to work on freeing her companion’s hands. “Well there’s no need anymore, since he’s dead and all.”

There was a slipping sound and Violet’s hands came free. She immediately went to rubbing at where the rope had scraped her skin. “Thanks,” she managed.

Katya said nothing about how Violet should have done as she’d asked. She said nothing about her being useless, though Violet sure felt useless. All Katya did was lead Violet back to the control car to have a conversation with the engineer.

…

One engineer payout and a conversation with the passengers of the transit car later, Violet, Katya and -- to Violet’s dismay -- _Pearl_ were back in the luxury cabin. All bodies of Pearl’s family members, including one hog-tied tall man who was still alive for some reason, had been discarded on either side of the track. Left to be found by the rest of their gang, or by coyotes, it really didn’t matter.

Violet’s eyes bore into the back of Pearl’s head now. The girl and Katya sat talking on the same couch Violet and Katya had messed around on little over an hour ago. With some satisfaction, Violet noticed it was more like Katya talked and Pearl looked vaguely interested.

Katya had recommended Violet try and get some shut-eye after the day she’d had, and to prepare for the trek ahead. She’d said something about getting off before the station and going into a town, going the rest of the way on horseback. Violet couldn’t relax. The whole reason they were going to have to leave early was because of this desert rat Pearl and her gang of gun-toting inbreds. The more she thought about it the more her stomach roiled in bitterness.

Katya was chatting and laughing and scratching with Pearl, a kid -- how old was she even? Fourteen? What would the twig’s family think when her body was missing next to the tracks? Surely they’d know someone had taken her. They’d hunt them down, kill them, eat them…

Violet shook her head. Katya bringing the kid on the mission was going to be nothing but trouble. And Violet decided right then that she and Pearl would never, ever be anything so much as civil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _zvyozdochka_ means ‘little star’


	3. Young Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trio prepare to trek across the wilderness and Violet’s bitterness towards Pearl continues. Finally pausing to rest in a town, Violet and Katya finish a conversation they began on the train.

Violet kept a constant stink-eye on the new member of their posse. Pearl was a pro though, expertly able to deflect evil gazes like sun off a mirror. If Katya were a kinder person she would have bent over backward to make Violet happy. But Katya was smart, she knew Violet’s misery was mostly of her own doing, and her sharp remarks didn’t seem to bother Pearl in the slightest. So what was the point in forcing the city mouse to play nice in the country?

The engineer, true to his word, slowed the train to a crawl when they approached a town called Weedville. Jumping from the railing onto the harsh ground proved a challenge, with even Pearl getting the jitters jumping off.

“Oh, I’ll go first then,” said Katya, rolling her eyes and flinging her saddlebag over her shoulder.

The ground passed at the rate it would when riding a horse at full trot. Katya took a deep breath and took a stance. She lightly jumped off the side at a crouch, letting the impact of the ground spread out over her arm, hip and shoulder as she went into a barrel roll.

Katya stopped in a crouch, slightly dustier than she had been before the leap. Fifteen feet away she heard a little impact, and turned to see Pearl rolling like a bug. Pearl picked herself up and looked back at Katya. Katya smiled wide and gave the girl a thumbs-up. Pearl merely nodded and turned the opposite direction. Katya started walking to catch up to the prodigy. Now all they had to do was wait for Violet.

When Miss Chachki leapt from the bannister, she soared through the air like a bird in flight. The landing though…

Katya and Pearl burst into laughter watching Violet’s lean form crumple to the ground and flail for balance. When her body stilled, her legs splayed wide open and her face was in the dirt. She spat sand for the second time in 48 hours and looked back up at her travel companions. They laughed at her and she couldn’t help the angry flush that rose to her cheeks. Violet ignored the hurt in her thighs, calves and hips, hauling herself upright. She dusted off her shoulders like she jumped off trains for fun.

Katya and Pearl strolled up to her, breathing deeply to calm their laughter. Violet’s mouth smiled. It was dusk, the sky seething in orange, bathing everything dirty. Katya grounded herself, righting her saddlebag on her shoulder. “So we head south,” she said. “There’s a town just beyond that hill.”

Violets eyes were sticky and dry, her legs buzzing. She thought she could feel the phantom ropes still around her wrists, rubbing raw at her skin. She pushed all of it down to keep up with Katya and her workboots, her unconcerned roughness. And with Pearl, who was made and raised out in the badlands. Their legs hauled them up the hill, finding the sturdy ground instead of the sliding gravel, the perfect path to the top of the brushpile. Violet yelped when her foothold slid out from under her.

Katya tiredly turned back to Violet, hardly concerned. “Get on up, City Mouse, it’s not getting any easier from here.”

Violet tensed at the new nickname. Her annoyance was just enough power to motivate her to just follow the steps Katya had taken instead of trying to make her own way. She took a breath at the crown of the hill. The darkening mass of land ahead of her seemed to go on forever. What looked like a decent trek away sat a squat town, only a few lanterns lit in the square. Katya nodded in the direction of the town, then made quick work of descending the slope. Pearl followed shortly after, and Violet lagged behind.

…

Violet didn’t know how Katya and Pearl knew where the hell they were going in light so dim, or how they moved _so fast_ without once running into anything. Violet counted five run-ins with bushes, three of which were full of thorns. By the time Violet stumbled into the clearing in front of the town, she was ready to collapse. Her legs ached, her lungs burned and she kept scratching at her neck and arms, sure there were thorns stuck in her skin.

Katya was already chatting up a man in an old looking suit, asking for some kind of directions. Pearl stood off to the side, staring into the distance. Violet sagged over to Pearl. “You could’ve waited up for me.”

Pearl slowly turned her head, waiting to look at Violet until she absolutely had to. “You could have sped up.”

Violet sneered. “I ran into _three_ sticker bushes on the way!”

Pearl tilted her head, eyeing up the few angry red scratches on Violet’s neck and arms. “‘S what you get for passing up on sleeves. Those’ll be gone by tomorrow night anyhow. Rub Aloe Vera if they get narly.”

Katya smiled and nodded at the man and turned back to the others. The gravel crunched under her feet as she approached. “Boarding house is a ‘half dollar a person,” she said, pulling her hat off her head to run her fingers through her hair. Her eyes flickered over Violet, concern wafting over her face. “Violet, why are you all cut up?”

Violet opened her mouth but Pearl answered for her. “Thornbush.”

Her eyes filled with fire as she looked on Pearl’s profile.

Katya echoed Pearl’s Aloe Vera idea, which made Violet want to burn every Aloe Vera plant in the surrounding area.

Before they turned in, Katya said they had to buy the use of some horses for the rest of their journey. Violet was on one hell of a roll, and kept her money to herself. Katya leaned in, about to try and convince Violet to hand over the cash, but Violet shrugged her off. She was just so tired and sore and she felt dirty all around and she couldn’t stand the thought of Pearl following them for what Katya said was going to be a week’s ride.

“Can’t the little outlaw just _steal_ us some rides?” Her voice was acid in her mouth.

Katya closed her eyes, making sure to keep her temper. It was growing to be a chore with Violet’s temperament. “I’m sure she _could_ , but we are trying to be as legitimate in this mission as we possibly can be.” Violet’s father’s voice echoed in her mind. “And,” Katya added. “I’m doing my best to pull her _out_ of a life of crime.”

Violet’s grip on her money pouch loosened and she pouted. Katya was trying to get Violet to look into her eyes but Violet didn’t want to. It was like falling into a spell.

Then Katya said “Violet.” And every muscle in her body relaxed. It was the way she said it -- so understanding, the pitch like a pillow, a lover whispering in her ear. “Violet, look at me.”

She melted. She passed over the money pouch, exactly what Katya wanted, exactly what she was there for. But Katya didn’t immediately turn away when she had it, she kept eye contact, and leaned closer, breathing on Violet’s neck, sending shivers down her skin. God dammit, Violet’s mind was back on that train, before everything got fucked up, before everything got _real._ A heat traveled down, a tension resting between Violet’s hips, a reminder of what went unfinished.

“We talk later,” Katya whispered, then pulled away.

…

Mercifully, Katya convinced Pearl to turn in early, while she and Violet arranged a date at the local watering hole. The owner’s wife was from Carolina originally, and made a mean batch of cornbread, which Violet and Katya inhaled before the bartender could even pour their house ales.

The man with the wax moustache behind the bar set their glasses down hard, the entire wood tabletop vibrating with attitude. Katya grabbed both by the handle and shot a look at Violet, then over to an empty two-seater table along a quiet wall. Violet followed, her demeanor immediately brightened by cornbread and the promise of alcohol.

Once seated, Katya raised her mug to Violet’s, clinking in good company. Violet raised her mug to her lips and took a less-than tentative sip. Her eyes squeezed shut and her knuckles went white. From across the table she heard Katya chuckle softly. Suddenly fueled with purpose, Violet swallowed hard, exhaling as she stared down at the table.

“Rough, isn’t it?” Katya took another, significantly smaller sip.

Violet threw her head back and took a sharp breath in. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice scratched like a record. She took another sip. “It’s super smooth.”

Katya gave a real laugh at that, stomping her feet and reaching out to grab Violet by the arm. Violet jumped at the touch without thinking. Katya’s face fell and she released her grip, not quite letting go. When she went to push back the gentle fabric wrapped around Violet’s wrist, she didn’t pull away, only brought her mug to her lips once again.

Katya stared at the sore red flesh pockmarking Violet’s wrist, like a bruise bracelet. Violet pressed her lips together. No doubt Katya was thinking of all the things Violet did wrong, all the ways she could have prevented this, what would have happened to Katya if Violet had gotten herself killed, and on her father’s own property. It was shameful.

When Katya bent her head down to kiss her sore wrist, Violet’s heart stopped. She looked at her ale, blinking. _The stuff must be stronger than I thought._  Violet found herself relaxing into Katya’s touch, let her eyes droop when the blonde wound her way around both of her damaged wrists. There was an itching of insecurity in her chest: what if someone saw? Then Katya was kissing her way down Violet’s hand, feather-gentle. It was like her lips weren’t even there.

Eventually, Violet found the strength to slowly pull her hands away from Katya’s mouth. Katya lifted her head to take a sip of ale. With a glance Violet saw that Katya had barely drank any of her own, while Violet was almost half done with her pint. It had been getting easier to swallow the syrupy liquid, and with every swallow Violet was finding it harder to remember what she had been so upset about all day.

Her hands were still on the table, resting halfway between the two of them. Katya was leaning forward, her face little over a foot away. With a sticky connection, the memory returned. Violet’s shoulders drooped.

“What is it?” asked Katya, her voice smooth.

“Pearl,” Violet breathed, too quiet for Katya to hear over the din of the saloon. She cleared her throat and repeated, this time looking into Katya’s glistening blue eyes. Hm. Katya’s eyes hadn’t _glistened_ before. Must be the ale. She took another swig.

Katya leaned back and her wooden chair squeaked. She took a drink and gathered her thoughts. After a while, she asked “Why are you having such a hard time with her?”

Violet rested her cheek on her fist. “I dunno,” she lied. She knew exactly why.

Katya nodded, understanding what Violet hadn’t said. Without making the effort to keep it, her accent returned. “You are fish out of water. You find it hard to… _acclimate_.”

Violet nodded. “It comes so easily to her,” she looked up. “And to you, I…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m usually -- like I’m indeshtr- inde-”

Katya chuckled. Violet slapped her side of the table. Katya erupted in wheezy laughter.

“‘S not that funny!” Violet rolled her eyes and tried to flatten the smile on her lips. “You know what I mean.”

When Katya regained her composure, she wiped at her eyes. “I do, I do. You are strong independent woman. You do not need help. Neither will you ask for it.”

Violet hung her head guiltily. Katya’s hand found its way to her shoulder.

“Violet. _gorodskaya mysh'_.”

Violet’s head snapped up, hoping she’d just heard Katya slur. Seeing her sober eyes, she realized with disappointment that she’d just said something in Russian. Violet wondered what.

Katya was talking, saying something lovely but all Violet could do was stare at the woman’s lips as they glided over pearly white teeth. All in a row like a military cemetery. She didn’t really know what she was doing but the ale had her on autopilot and Violet didn’t have the good sense to stop herself from stretching her neck and back and pressing her own lips against Katya’s.

It took a few seconds -- during which Violet was sure Katya was about to push her away -- before Katya responded, grabbing Violet by the elbow, the side of her throat, and pulling her closer, kissing Violet back slowly, thoughtfully. Violet melted into her, cursing the table that separated them. She kneeled on her chair, practically lying on top of the table, eager to get closer to Katya however she could. Where Violet was messy and sloppy, Katya was poised and controlled, letting Violet’s tongue explore her mouth while she sucked on her bottom lip. Violet moaned into the kiss, wetness warming her between her legs.

“AHEM!”

The two broke apart, a string of spittle still linking them together. Violet wiped her mouth. A big woman stood with her fist on her hip, staring menacingly down at them. Violet felt her stomach churn in fear. She felt a sudden urge to jump into Katya’s arms.

Katya cleared her throat and reset her American accent. “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

The woman arched an eyebrow. Violet thought the woman looked a lot like an illustration of a bridge troll from one of her childhood picture books her nanny would read to her.

“It’s Miz Matthews to you,” said the woman snootily. “And fornicators are to move to the brothel out back. You’re bringin’ down the propaty value ‘round here.”

Violet’s mind was stuck on ‘brothel’. Did this troll thing she was a hooker?! She was about to tell off a bitch when Katya grabbed her more forcefully by the elbow and pulled her away.

Come to find out Miz Matthews the bridge troll was referring to a paid guest room in the brothel located just behind the saloon. As opposed to the boarding house, the brothel had some semblance of privacy. And probably lice. Also it was three bucks an hour for a couple where one was not a fancy lady.

They were led into a small room with a ratty-looking queen bed, surrounded by waxy and runny candles, not a one of which was lit. The madam of the house said lighting one of the candles would be an extra two dollars. Katya grunted, told the woman they were fine, then whipped out a book of matches the second she was gone.

Violet giggled watching Katya bring a finger to her lips as she struck up a match. She lit a single red candle before blowing out her match and joining Violet on the bed. “Shall we finish what we started?”

Like before, Katya’s kiss was sweet and controlled and sober. Violet hummed into Katya’s mouth, delight bubbling beneath her surface. Her hands were grabby and wandering, her palms ghosting over Katya’s hips, her arms, her neck, her chest. Her fingers fumbled with the top of Katya’s button-up. With a little growl, Katya grabbed Violet’s hands, pulled them up behind Violet’s head and held them there. Immobilized, all Violet could do was watch as the candlelight outlined Katya’s face, sculpting over her features. Her hair glowed. Violet whimpered; she wanted to be kissing her again.

Katya undid her buttons, achingly slow. The gap down her shirt enlarged, and Violet couldn’t tear her eyes away from the clear view of Katya’s confined cleavage. “ _Katya_ ,” she whined.

The woman complied, leaning forward so her breasts were pressed close to Violet’s mouth. The heiress drew her lips around the sensitive flesh, pressing open-mouthed kisses in the line beneath Katya’s garter. Katya released Violet’s hands and directed her fingers to the stretchy fabric around her torso. “Get it off.”

“Yes ma’am,” giggled Violet. It proved much easier to get rid of the garter back when she was sober. By the time it finally came away, Violet was ready to rip the thing off with her teeth.

Finally free to breathe fully and let her chest expand, Katya relaxed, straddling Violet and allowing the girl to kiss and suckle around her breasts. Meanwhile she tugged at the ties on the back of Violet’s blouse. Violet shrugged out of the fabric without missing a beat as she pressed Katya’s tits together and mouthed the crevace. Katya let out a low groan of pleasure, reaching down to find Violet had discarded her own corset before they left the train. Silently Katya cursed the girl for her small bust, her ability to get away without constraining herself. Then Violet’s hand ventured down the front of her trousers and Katya let herself fall back on the rented mattress.

Feeling herself climb to the heavens, she let Violet undo her trousers, let herself be fully naked below someone. Violet’s mouth was on her neck, sending sunshine through her veins. It was all she had the strength to do when she whispered “No marks.”

Violet chuckled on Katya’s throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head. Violet’s fingers ghosted around Katya’s nethers, taking note of just how hot and wet she was. Based on what she was seeing, Katya was close. Violet smirked and pulled completely away.

Katya’s eyes snapped open at the cold and the loss. Seeing Violet kneeling on the bed, gazing down on her, her heart stilled.

Violet propped up one leg, knee jiggling. Katya’s eyes followed her high stockings all the way up. Her mouth watered. A drop fell between Violet’s legs. In her high little lady voice she said, “Ladies finish first.”

“Tease.”

Katya dove in like it was the last thing she would ever do. Violet’s vision blurred; her legs went weak. Her arms flailed for something to hold onto against Katya’s mouth -- oh, her _mouth_. She grabbed a chunk of Katya’s sun-bleached hair and rubbed the back of her own damp neck. Violet let out a string of words her nanny would have called ‘low class’. She couldn’t help it. Her voice roared, unable to keep all her pleasure inside. She was overflowing, coming apart at the seams, Katya’s mouth loving her between her thighs just as it had her mouth. When Katya went to sucking at Violet’s most tender nub, Violet let out a scream as she was driven over her peak. Throwing herself back on the mattress, Violet bucked her hips, all her muscles tightening and releasing at once.

She hadn’t realized her hands were grasping at the air until Katya took them in her own, caressing her hands and fingers, lightly kissing them like she had back at the saloon. Still flying high, Violet’s eyes watered. She was vaguely aware of the sweet things Katya was saying into her hands, of the damp hair the woman brushed out of her eyes.

When Violet was able to drag herself out of the golden haze she noticed Katya still caressing her hand with her thumb, her blue eyes fixed on Violet. Following her other arm, she saw Katya’s hand moving around her own inner thighs. Seeing Violet back on earth, she smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to Violet’s lips. Violet reached up to cup the side of Katya’s face. She could taste herself on Katya’s lips, the wetness between her legs whispering again.

Katya shifted to straddle Violet’s torso. “You need to breathe, you tap me, yes?”

Violet nodded, and not a second later Katya was kneeling over Violet’s face, her hips riding Violet’s mouth, basically doing all the work for her. Violet reached up to grab at Katya’s toned ass, her strong thighs. When she dug her nails into Katya’s skin, she felt wetness gush down her chin. Watching the blonde’s nipples go erect and her throw her head over her shoulder, her eyelids flutter, Violet quickened her pace, eliciting a groan from above.

Violet dug the edge of her fingernail from one of Katya’s hips to the other, causing the blonde to shiver when she skirted either side of her navel. It was in these moments Violet was grateful she was a woman: no man would have known about these tender areas. A man would not have known to keep persistence when the deed of loving a woman with his mouth may have become boring. Violet smirked. The sounds coming out of Katya were _very_ unattractive, and _she_ was responsible for them.

Katya took her time, which was fine -- Violet was only too grateful to return the favor, especially with a partner so vocal. When Katya’s body froze and her moans choked into silence, Violet grinned. Kissing and suckling around Katya’s drenched thighs, Violet followed her down as she collapsed back onto the mattress, drawing circles over Katya’s lower belly, stroking the stretch marks on her chest.

Katya was still coming down when the gruff voice of the madam cut through the golden silence. “A-hem.”

Katya’s lashes fluttered. Violet glared. Did everyone in this goddamn town have to butt in where they weren’t wanted?

The madam pulled the drape aside enough to show her face, the front of her dress and, Violet noticed, the fascinated faces of a few girls in the hall. Violet winked their way, making the girls giggle and fan themselves before the madam shooed them away.

“You about finished in here?” demanded the madam mockingly. “ ‘Cause I got a payin’ customer with one of my girls a’waitin for the room. _If_ y’all ‘re done _relaxin’._ ”

Violet wanted to sneer and quip something about them being paying customers too, and that rushing the clientele was hardly a smart business practice. But Katya was groggily rolling herself back up, reaching for her clothes and telling the madam they’d be out in a minute. Katya even _thanked_ the bitch for her _hospitality_. As she got dressed, Violet thought in amazement about Katya’s manners in her afterglow. If Katya was this pleasant now… Violet wondered how long it had been since the blonde’s last rendezvous.

The madam demanded six dollars for their stay, on account of they exceeded one hour in the room and they ‘distracted other girls’ with their ‘overzealousness’. At that, Violet shot a look at a group of girls who had obviously been talking about them, making the girls squirm in their petticoats and fan themselves fervently. Violet wrapped a slender arm around Katya’s waist and pressed a kiss to her damp neck on their way out just to watch the girl’s faces light up with envy, their busts swell in arousal.

The night was moonless on their way back to the boarding house, and the two stayed hand-in-hand so as not to lose each other in the blackness. As they approached the porch, Katya stalled on the edge of the light, half her chiseled face veiled by the night.

“Tonight,” she began, her accent still in place. Violet assumed Katya was too comfortable to bother hiding it. Katya shifted her weight. “It was… well ‘very nice’ does it no justice but…”

Violet smiled. “It was just,” she arched a knowing eyebrow and pulled her hand out of Katya’s. “It was just fun.”

Katya sighed in relief and let out a string of Russian syllables before switching back to a language Violet could comprehend. “I forget you are different.”

Violet’s mouth pulled wide and she tilted her head. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt with that one.”

Katya’s blue eyes widened. “Oh I did not mean--”

Violet burst out laughing.

Katya chuckled a little. “I mean good different. I mean complex--eh,” she broke off into a string in a tone of what Violet assumed meant ‘Iamsuchanidiot’ in pretty much every language.

They headed into the house before Katya stopped to contemplate the door handle. Violet crossed her arms. “What is it?”

“Just,” Katya pressed her lips into a thin line. “Going forward. I want you to promise me something.”

Violet arched a never-still eyebrow. “And what is that?”

Katya pressed a chaste kiss to Violet’s mouth. Violet kept it chaste, hesitant. When Katya pulled back her voice was a whisper. “Give Pearl a chance. For me.”

Violet had to blink a few times while she raked through her foggy mind. “Pearl,” the word was almost foreign on her tongue. She hadn’t thought of the young thing in so long. Her little features under her big hat, striding through the brush with ease. Insecurity seeped to Violet’s surface, despite Katya’s earlier comforting words.

Katya nodded. “She reminds me of me, and I want her to feel welcome. I am not saying you have to love her, but…”

“Okay,” Violet nodded slowly, her face downcast. “I’ll go easy on her.”

Katya smiled her thousand-watt smile and pushed open the door with a _creak_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _gorodskaya mysh'_ means ‘city mouse’


	4. In The Saddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trio make their Trek across the Wilderness on horseback. There’s much for Violet to adapt to, a lot of time to think and character development to have. Things heat up when a rattlesnake strikes a member of the Trio.

 It wasn’t the first time Violet had slept on the floor. She’d drunkenly passed out in all sorts of places before -- pool sheds, basements, against a fence, in a closet -- but this was the first time she’d woken up… _itching_.

Katya had chuckled when she woke up to Violet furiously scratching. Her nails scraped her scalp, her neck, her nethers. “It’s a boarding house, _gorodskaya mysh_ ,” she’d said. “Not to mention the other place, what did you expect?”

Violet’s voice jumped three octaves. “Are you saying I have _fleas?_ ”

Pearl roused at the noise, rubbing her lids and staring up at her companions curiously.

“Well I do not expect to know the exact species of the vermin.” Katya propped herself up on her elbow. “Don’t make a scene, Violet.” Katya warned her companion who was openly scratching the devil out of her shoulders and chest.

 _Don’t make a scene?!_ Violet wanted to scream. Three days into the venture and she was infested!

Katya grabbed her by the wrist and Violet yelped at the pressure on her still-tender flesh. Heat pricked at the edges of her eyes and her knuckles went white.

“ _Sorry_ _!_ ” hissed Katya, releasing her grip. She brushed strands of hair out of her face. “It is just, boarding houses have reputations to uphold. Entire towns have banished travelers who accused their boarding houses of things like this. And we spent time in a place that does _not_ have to worry about insects, since their customers keep coming back anyway.”

Violet pulled herself off the floor, the feeling like there were ants all over her skin making her twitchy. She brushed at her bare arms. “What would it matter if we got kicked out anyway?” she asked. “We’re leaving.”

Katya opened her mouth to speak but shut it when Pearl’s soft voice poked out into the early light of day. “Couple years back we had this kid running with us.” Her eyes were far away, the color the exact same as the blue-grey of first dawn. “Kid came down with croup. Deep, hacking coughs,” she remembered. Katya stared into the wool blanket they’d shared in the night, picturing a similar scene from her own past.

“None of the herbal remedies Mama tried worked,” Pearl recalled. “We were set up on a cliffside not far from this Busby town. Kid was gettin’ skinny, turning white. Pap told us to go and get medicine. I went with Mama, they didn’t trust the boys to be gentle with the medicine bottle.” Pearl sat up and tucked her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her eyes stayed in the past. “The vial was this fancy blown glass, I just couldn’t stop staring how it caught the sunlight. It was expensive, and we hadn’t had that good of a year,” Pearl breathed deeply and closed her eyes. “She handed over the money and I was looking at the bottle, turning it over and over, looking at myself in the glass.

“But I wasn’t paying attention, and when it was yanked out of my hands Mama was out of the apothecary and in the town square, being manhandled by townsfolk with torches and pitchforks and fire pokers. They were casting her out, ‘cause she’d been banished some score of years ago and there were still folk in that town who remembered her. I hit the man who took the medicine, said my br--” Pearl stopped herself. “Kid needed it. He said if they were connected to Mama they deserved to die, that we wouldn’t get back our money. They were keeping it as tax for showing our faces in their town.”

When Pearl looked back up at Violet and Katya, they half expected to see tears streaking their way down her rosy little cheeks.

Pearl’s face was a blank slate, her eyes bone dry. “That, Madam, is why you don’t wanna get banished from any town,” she explained. “You never know when you’re gonna need ‘em.”

There were a few seconds wherein Violet stared ahead, Pearl stared at the floor, and Katya rummaged around with their bags in silence.

Pearl inadvertently set the mood for the whole day of travel. It wasn’t easy to pick up conversation after such an intense story. Katya wasn’t much for useless chit-chat anyway, especially when she had so much to do to prepare for the journey ahead.

Violet shut up after Pearl’s story, to the relief of her companions. Pearl’s gaze was as removed as usual, but now the others had some idea of what was happening behind that glassy look in her eyes. Katya didn’t have to wonder what horrors Pearl had witnessed in her years; she’d likely seen the same things.

Violet, however, was removed from this world. Inconvenience and poverty, insects and dirty wooden floors. She knew very little of such things. When Nurse had tried to warn her, Violet had waved her off. _"_ _Oh, come now, how bad can it be?_ ” Nurse had gotten that look on her face, like she knew what was best for her, which was to keep her mouth shut. She’d offered Violet tea. Violet had waved that off too.

_I wish I’d listened._

***

_Violet had ridden horses. She’d raced them, played polo against other wealthy men and their children. It was only boys who played, the competitiveness of the sport deemed unfeminine. Violet had dressed as a boy and learned from a tutor. She never felt exactly wrong in boy’s clothes, riding astride instead of side saddle. She didn’t bother changing her voice, as every time she tried to practice she sounded dreadful. Hiding her hair under a hat was no issue, as at the time she had lopped it all off on a whim. Her tutor would say no shortage of things about how her ‘sister’ would never be as good a rider as her ‘brother’._

_Learning quickly, Violet soon surpassed the tutor’s plans. The man recommended she play against some of his other students. She obliged, wiping the competition around the field. Rising through the ranks, Violet waited until a polo competition came around where the winner of the match won a spot on the city team. When she entered and won, she finally pulled off her helmet to reveal the hair she’d by then regrown and pull off the jacket to reveal her cleavage. “Ladies and gentlemen!” she screamed at the crowd of stupefied aristocrats. “I have lied to you! I am not, as I was entered to be, Jason Chachki, heir of Chachki Enterprises. No such person exists! I am Violet Chachki, the ONLY child of the richest man in the country! AND I HAVE WON YOUR TOURNAMENT!”_

_Of course, they’d pulled her from the stage, and she didn’t get the spot on the men’s only polo team. The second place competitor got the press and the prestige and the prize money, which was all well and good by Violet’s book (she already had those things). She was overjoyed with her accomplishment on its own. Because for one moment, just one, she had made her own name. She had fooled people for months, no one even batting an eye at Jason’s identity, despite him never existing before the matches or being spotted publicly. All the while, Violet went out and bought all manner of polo gear._

Violet _had won. And that was all that mattered._

***

Violet swatted at the air in futility. Turns out, when you travel, the horseflies travel with you.

The sun was hot early in the morning. Violet had no eye for distance, but the three rode relatively quickly, Katya setting the pace. She had learned long ago it was not easy to carry on a conversation while on horseback, so she returned to her own thoughts: mainly those of Pearl.

The heiress cast a glance ahead at the girl. They rode in a _V_ formation, like birds migrating South. Violet pulled up the rear, a meter and a half behind Katya on the left and Pearl on the right.

When she had first encountered the girl, Violet thought her to be little older than fourteen. Since experiencing close quarters with her, she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps it was just that she had been forced to grow up too quickly, had seen too much for her age, but Violet thought _those eyes, those are the eyes of age_.

She thought about a boy one of her father’s friends brought over, an adopted son, straight from the slums. Violet had asked how old he was. She remembered being startled when he told her he was thirteen. Her guess had been five years off; his very poise and being said he was older. The eyes, especially. But there was one thing that threw her guess off enough for her to ask the question in the first place: his stature. His frame was small, squat, but not in a healthy way like Nurse always wanted Violet to be.

“He’s so short for his age,” she remembered commenting to Nurse that evening as she bathed Violet.

Nurse’s low throaty voice hummed, the sign of her figuring how to explain the world to someone so sheltered from it. “The boys you know, Violet, are lucky like you are. They have food on the table every night, enough vitamins to grow big and strong. You once asked me what would happen if you chose not to eat.”

Nurse had said Violet would turn out frail and skinny. Violet knew a photograph of her mother. She was small and skinny. Violet decided to downsize her meals. She could now scarcely tell the difference between photographs of her mother and herself.

“That boy is what happens when someone does not have food on the table, when you go to bed with your stomach in pain it’s so empty, but there’s nothing to fill it because there’s no money and no family. That boy is what happens when you get rescued from that life, and your body is already used to holding on to every morsel.”

Nurse had asked if she understood. She said yes, but she did not understand. The concept of need was entirely foreign; it meant nothing to Violet then. Now she thought she was really starting to.

***

Lunch was biscuits that had been crunched by saddlebags and jerky from some animal Violet didn't ever remember eating before. If such a lunch had been presented to her days ago, she would have slapped the tray in disgust. If she were especially hungry, Violet may have chewed the biscuit and spat it back out for its dryness, the crumbling texture. She would never have put the jerky near her face for the smell.

As the noonday sun bore down around them, Violet swished around extra saliva to make up for the dry biscuit. She stayed behind so her companions would not see her wince at the texture of the jerky. Yet she made no sound of resentment for the food, merely washing the hunk of dry salted meat down her throat with warm water from her canteen.

***

Around what Violet deemed to be 2 o’clock, Katya pulled them over to a patch of shady trees to let their horses rest. Each woman dismounted and went about some manner of stretching. Pearl stretched her legs and arms and went about the grove exploring. Violet watched the girl go about only in the shade. Little patches of sunlight caught her hair occasionally, bouncing off the near platinum color to form fleeting halos of light.

Katya stretched languidly, and Violet smiled watching her bend in familiar ways. The heiress backed up against the bark of a tree and prodded the ground with the steel toe of her boot. It was soft. “Katya?” Violet’s voice was croaky, having gone unused for possibly the longest time in her life.

Katya hummed in response and looked up at Violet from a state of contortion.

“How long is this rest going to be? I mean is it long enough for me to take a nap?”

Katya laughed heartily, bringing a smile to Violet’s lips. It hurt; she tasted blood from where her lip had split open. She sucked the skin inside her mouth.

Katya repositioned her limbs so she was on the soft ground with her legs spread out in a wide _V_. “Sure thing, grab a cat nap if you like.”

Violet nestled her saddlebag between her back and the bark of a mesquite tree. She splayed her legs as far apart as she could, taking advantage of all the space. Nuzzling her cheek against the bag, Violet let herself relax.

The warm sun had lulled her into the twilight of her memories all morning, and the soft earth was a much accepted alternative to a hard wooden floor. Within minutes Violet found herself dozing. She was only half awake when she heard Katya say something about scouting.

\---

Pearl shuffled dirt around with the toe of her worn-in boot, burying a scurrying ant on his way home. Of course he had no problem digging himself out; they never did. Ants are never creatures to be underestimated. They carry such heavy things on their backs, far bigger than their own bodies. How such tiny bodybuilders managed these feats Pearl didn’t know.

Cousin Lin had once said there were people who believe that when you die you don’t die, and you don’t go to heaven either. Lin’s folk think you come back as something else. _Someone_ else if you’re lucky, but if you’re not, you come back as a dung beetle. Pearl didn’t think she’d ever seen a dung beetle, but as she watched Soldier Ant No. 2337 plod his way back to his colony of friends and family, she thought, _I wouldn’t mind coming back as an ant_.

Pearl pulled off her hat and fanned herself with it. She blew at a strand of hair in front of her eye, knowing it wouldn’t work. Grunting in frustration, she scraped her dirty fingernails across her damp forehead, cramming that strand back in place.

Pearl glanced at the shadows. Katya had been gone almost an hour. She said to expect her back ‘in an hour or so’. Pearl rested her chin in her hand. Different people meant different things when they said ‘in an hour or so’. When Ma said it she meant one hour sharp. Pap’s ‘hour or so’ meant near two. Still Pearl remembered various brothers and cousins saying they’d be back ‘in an hour’, for Pearl to still be waiting for their return. But what did _Katya_ mean by it?

A lizard streaked from one mesquite to another. Pearl pulled her revolver and twirled it around her fingers. There was a day when she’d have not thought twice about blasting that poor thing’s head clean off, just because she knew she could. But then there was no point. There was no reason, and no adventure, in shooting innocent things. There was no rush anymore, just from having done so, no feeling of victory. All there was, was a mess and a carcass, which she would have to eat. Pearl was not a fan of eating lizard.

 _Besides_ , she thought, bored. _Mustn’t wake the princess_. Violet Chachki lay against a tree, dozing in the shade. Her face and overall body was thin. It was inexcusable for an heiress. _The wealthy ought to be fat_ , thought Pearl. _I can see her cheekbones, that’s hardly acceptable. Why has this girl starved herself when she should be doing something with all that cash. Eating it, wearing it._ The waste made her sick.

Violet started twitching in her sleep, whimpering like a struck dog. Pearl rolled her eyes. _What would_ Violet Chachki _have nightmares about?_

Amongst the whimpering and choked gasps for air, there was a hushed noise. Rare, to hear it, since Pearl and her kin were careful. Pearl rocketed to her feet, her revolver struck to life like a match in the dark. She pinpointed the place Violet’s right foot was stirring up dirt with its movement. Sure enough, there was an opening carved into the soft ground, a gopher hole with a non-gopher resident.

It’s eyes glinted in the small patch of sunlight, its scales blending in with gravel. Pearl was frozen, unable to think: did she have enough time to wake Violet and stop her flailing? Would that even stop the rattler? Cousin Jarmusch got chased half an orchard by a rattler. And what if they jumped on the horses and the devil took a bite out of one of them? Then they’d really be damned.

Without warning, Violet flailed again and the beast lunged forward, fangs out.

***

In her dream she’s back home, at the manor. Her father is standing above her. He’s so tall and wide and she is so, so tiny. He holds back three snarling Dobermans, trained for attacking. Violet’s heart race speeds.

“Daddy please.”

“Now, now,” his voice booms, echoing off every grey surface. They are alone.

She wants to scream for Nurse, but Nurse is nowhere to be seen. And anyway, when had she ever stood up for Violet directly against her employer?

Her father unleashes the hounds. They bullet forward. Violet screams but makes no sound. She spins to run, but there are already hot teeth sinking into her ankle.

***

Violet awakes to pain and gunshot. Her eyes instantly go to her right ankle, in piercing pain. Not far from her leg lay some kind of snake, jerking about and bleeding from its face.

Looking up, Violet locked eyes with Pearl. The old child, the damaged quickshot.

She looked terrified.

That’s about when Violet started to panic.

She grabbed at her ankle, to hold it and rock it like a baby. Pearl shouted “Don’t do that!”

Violet slapped back against her tree, fear rising in her chest.

The kid dove down beside her, eyeing up her boot. “Shit, looks like he got through.”

Violet’s heart rate jumped.

Pearl tilted her head. “But these are leather so he might’nt’ve got deep.”

Violet swallowed. “And that matters?” she squeaked.

“Yeah, it does.” Pearl couldn’t even look at her. It must be bad.

Violet let out a little sob.

Pearl’s attention snapped back to her. “Oh. Right. You need to stay calm.”

“Stay _calm?_ ”

“Yeah ‘cause the faster your heart beats the more the poison can spread.”

Violet’s eyes went wide with alarm.

“But that’s _if_ there is any poison to begin with.”

This did not ease Violet’s mood. “If?”

Pearl finally managed to bring her storm blue eyes to meet Violet’s. She placed a long hand on Violet’s shoulder in what was supposed to be comfort.

Violet was not comforted by this action. “You’d never be touching me if I weren't dying ohmygod I’m totally dying--”

“You are NOT dying,” said Pearl. “Look, if you do as I say and let me help you I can almost definitely save your leg.”

Violet’s breaths were coming fast, her head feeling light. Nothing Pearl was saying made any sense.

“Don’t worry.” Pearl’s voice was a strained kind of optimistic. “I’ve known almost a dozen people to get bit by rattlesnakes and only two or three of them died.”

Pearl was smiling. Violet wanted to puke.

Violet thanked a probably non existent God that Katya chose this exact moment to come riding back to the grove. Pearl jumped up and Violet shifted as if to follow, only to be shoved back against her tree. “You stay down,” commanded Pearl.

Violet didn’t have to be told twice. The second she moved her leg, white hot pain scalded her, starting where the snake had chomped through her leather boot, now radiating almost up to her knee. She grimaced, her eyes filling with reflex tears. While Pearl filled Katya in with hushed but fast words, Violet decided to take Pearl’s earlier advice. Breathing slowly in and out, she found it was far easier to find some semblance of calm when Pearl wasn’t trying to make her feel better.

Katya came stomping swiftly over, her bright blue eyes filled with determination. Violet felt the need to sit up straighter as she approached, all business.

Katya kneeled next to Violet, eyeing up the boot the snake had bitten through. “Violet,” she said in a voice that was direct yet comforting. Violet felt a shiver run down her spine. She refocused her breathing as Katya looked up at her. “I’m going to have to remove this boot.”

Violet bit her lip. “It already feels pretty tight.”.

Katya nodded. “And the swelling is only going to get worse.” She undid her belt and handed it to Violet. “Bite down on that.”

Violet suppressed the urge to be disgusted by the gesture. When Katya reached for the toe of her boot, Violet set aside her already wounded pride and stuffed the belt in her mouth. She tried to breathe deeply again.

Katya quickly undid Violet’s laces, sending dust flying through the air. Violet tried to breathe deep as she could, knowing what would come next would hurt like hell. Katya grabbed hold of Violet’s boot with both hands and pulled.

Violet saw white, felt a scream bubble in the back of her throat. When she opened her eyes and blinked the tears down her face, Katya was holding up her right boot in her hand, having successfully pulled it off. Violet sighed in relief, that at least it had come off at all. She would have properly started screaming if after all that the shoe had stayed on!

Violet rested her head against the tree, spat the belt out of her mouth and panted. She closed her eyes. “Do I even want to see it?” she asked, breathless.

“Oh, no you really don’t.” It wasn’t Katya who answered, but Pearl, somewhere behind her. There was a strange noise too, a shaking, like a baby's… Violet’s heart dropped. Rattle.

Sensing Violet’s panic, Katya gently gripped Violet’s left thigh. “It’s allright, _лапушка_ ,” she purred. “Pearl’s milking the snake that bit you. It’s not another rattler. You’re safe, I promise.”

Violet calmed. She didn’t even want to know what ‘milking the snake’ meant, nor did she care. God, she was happy Katya came back. If she were still stuck with Pearl…

“So,” Violet swallowed. “Are you gonna suck the venom out now?”

“Yes,” said Katya seriously. “This will not be pleasant.”

Violet grabbed the belt again.

Katya continued, having dropped her American accent. “Though there is a chance no venom made its way into you, it is, as you say, better to be safe than sorry.”

…

When Katya said it wouldn’t be pleasant, Violet didn’t rightfully know what to expect. She’d felt Katya’s mouth wrap around her skin and suck before, but not like this. Her ankle was beyond tender, every fiber of her being screaming with the pain. It was a reflex, when her eyes drifted to the source. When she caught a glimpse of her skin, she had to spit out the belt and lean away to dry heave into the dirt.

Her skin. It had two definite open wounds, blood pooling in the indents. Katya’s mouth had eliminated most of the surrounding blood, but it still wept hot from the wound. Her right calf was already a third bigger than her left, and worst of all… Violet’s skin was ever so slightly turning blue.

Katya spat into the dirt. “Breathe,” she said before returning her mouth to the wound.

Katya didn’t tell her not to cry. Pearl didn’t make fun of her. Her companions treating her differently may have been the most unnerving part of this whole ordeal. Violet hadn’t considered it before, but as far as she had seen, the women out West weren’t treated so much like porcelain as they were Back East. Out here, the Katyas and Pearls were allowed to be strong, valued for their abilities. They treated each other like equals. Even when they poked fun at Violet… they were treating her like they would anyone else. Except now. Now she got treated like a victim. Because she was a snakebite victim. And there was, if Pearl was correct, a 20-30% chance she would die.

Violet stopped heaving. Her tears dried up and she felt suddenly cold, but for the burning in her leg. She could very well be dying. And she would not go sweetly, in her sleep at the age of 80 surrounded by her descendants and wealthy friends. She would die in pain, with one parolee and a teenaged criminal, in the middle of the desert.

Katya sat back, breaking for the first time in a while from her routine of sucking then spitting. Violet breathed hard and looked back at her. “Done?”

Katya spat again. “When I started tasting more copper than poison, I decided it was about safe.”

Violet’s head felt light. She kept breathing, and tried to do so slowly. Focus on anything but the direction her thoughts were taking her. She propped herself up on her elbow. “That’s what,” she breathed. “It tastes like?”

Katya ran her hand over her wet brow. “Tastes like poison,” she said. “Bitter. Kinda weed-ish, like dandelion.”

Violet released a shaky breath. She’d heard you could eat dandelion, in severe circumstances. She’d never been in a severe circumstance. Well, not before today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> лапушка-- “sweetheart/dear”.
> 
> If you get bitten by a venomous snake, DON'T try and suck the poison out. That used to be standard practice so that’s what happens here, but it does more harm than good.


	5. Help Me Make it Through the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl is tasked with helping Violet get through the night. Violet starts self-medicating, and invites Pearl to join the fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last of the pre-written chapters. I'm working on the next, but it's been hard and to add to that classes have started up again. This fic is by no means abandoned, the next update is just gonna take a bit.

“I’m the fastest rider, it only makes sense that I go,” said Katya.

Pearl’s voice was a screaming whisper. “You can’t leave me with her!”

Violet was vaguely aware of the argument from her place in the clouds. She’d begged for whiskey, or even bourbon, but Katya had insisted she not eat or drink anything. The pain was so insistent. Pins and needles marched their way up her knee and all on her foot, the itching-burning driving her mad. She needed _something,_ so she called upon the help of an old friend she had brought with her on the journey.

Violet exhaled, the hashish clouding its way down her throat. The spice of hash was far superior to tobacco in Violet’s book. Though, that may have been due to her father’s unending cigar habit. Along the list of things Violet had been told was unfeminine, smoking was one. Thus, she smoked, and did it her own way.

“What do you mean? Pearl, you’ll do fine,” Katya’s mouth quirked up at one side, not comprehending the teen’s plea.

Violet took another drag from her dark oak pipe. She watched the conversation through a growing haze.

“I can’t keep her calm!” Pearl hissed. “In case you haven’t noticed, _people_ aren’t my strong suit.”

Katya rested a hand on Pearls’ shoulder. “I believe in you.” When the child refused to meet her eye, Katya inquired “Are you afraid I will abandon you both?”

In the light of the fire, Violet thought the two women looked like cave paintings in reverse, light standing out against the dark, etched into stone for all time.

Pearl kicked at the dirt, sending glitter into the air. Violet smiled and watched the fragments fall.

“It wouldn’t be in your best interest to,” Pearl admitted.

Katya took out her gun, but not to shoot it. She called Pearl’s attention to some symbol on the handle. “You know what this means.” Pearl nodded. “And you know that I run by a code. I am _not_ leaving you to die in the desert,” Katya insisted. “But if I don’t go now, we may lose Violet.”

The heiress choked a little on her smoke and felt a cold creep over her. She scooted closer to the fire.

“Losing Violet isn’t good for anyone,” muttered Pearl.

“No it isn’t.” Katya thrust one boot into a stirrup and prepared to swing her other leg over her saddle. Pearl held Katya’s horse still for her.

Leaning down on horseback, the Russian gently held Pearl’s chin. “You are more capable than you think.” She offered one more phrase before galloping off into the night.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

***

Pearl sat down next to Violet. The heiress’ pale legs were plainly exposed all the way up to her undergarments, with the exception of a bandage Katya had tied a few inches above the bite. Katya had also removed Violet’s trousers hours ago to allow for the swelling. It was a sight Pearl wasn’t used to, such nakedness on a woman. Oh, Pearl had seen many penises in her time at the camp, Little boys and grown men alike. But the women, what few there were, remained clothed always.

She couldn’t help but stare. Violet’s legs didn’t look anything like her own. Where Pearl was toned, Violet looked soft. Where she was bruised, scarred and scabby, Violet was utterly flawless.

“Whassamatter?” Violet joked. “Never seen a pair o’ gams like these?” The heiress barked a laugh and wiggled her hips.

Pearl tried to shake off the dreamy feeling she often got from just looking at Violet. “Ah, I…”

Violet’s eyes developed a naughty gleam. “You’re neeeeervous.”

Pearl opened her mouth to deny, and Violet extended her right hand, in which sat an ornately carved stained pipe.

Ma’s voice echoed in her head. _Lips that touch tobacco shall surely turn black and fall off._

“Oh, I-- I don’t take tobacco,” Pearl’s voice seemed to be getting smaller and smaller.

Violet smirked. The smirkiest smirk ever to smirk. “Neither do I.”

Pearl’s mouth dropped open as comprehension hit her. She hadn’t understood Violet’s behavior, but shock and venom did odd things to people. Now as she looked on the face of the heiress, her big eyes and dreamy smile… Pearl had heard of hashish, that it was some kind of drug, not so bad as smoking poppies, but that you couldn’t find it many places, especially out here.

“Where’d you get it?” she questioned in amazement.

Violet rolled her eyes. “I’m rich, stupid.” She shoved her pipe farther toward Pearl. “Take a hit before I want more.”

Pearl snatched the smooth wooden pipe out of Violet’s slender hands. She’d smoked before, not much, just to make some of the cousins like her. They used to do it in secret before a midnight swim so Ma couldn’t smell it on them come morning. Now she took a conservative breath in, tasting the spice of the hash as opposed to the tobacco she was used to.

She choked a little and prepared for the teasing, like her brothers and cousins always did. But it didn’t come. Violet just stared ahead into the night, smiling dreamily. As there was nothing else to do, Pearl kept taking breaths from Violet’s pipe, finding it easier and easier. After a while, Violet held out her hand, silently asking for a turn. She took a deep hit, closing her eyes before passing it back to Pearl.

This was how they passed the time, in silence, just the two of them, the pipe, the hash and the crackling fire. After a while of this, Violet cleared her throat and spoke up. “How old’re you?”

“Hm?” Pearl had to walk herself down from a daydream that involved running horses and sunflowers.

“You look… young, but I don’t think… you’re as young as I think you are.” Violet squinted.

Pearl thought. She remembered being asked that years ago, and being so embarrassed that she didn’t have an answer. The new cousin made it seem the strangest thing for a girl not to know her age. She’d asked Mama. “Why I figure you’re what… fifteen? Fifteen, yeah, go with fifteen.” Pearl had simply nodded.

“I was fifteen….shhh… two years ago,” She told Violet.

Violet giggled.

“What?” Pearl squeaked, suddenly defensive. “Why’re you laughin’ at me?”

Violet swallowed. “Uhm, ‘cause if you were fifteen two years ago that’s a kid’s math problem.”

Pearl felt personally attacked. Not knowing how to put it into words, she merely huffed and thrust the pipe back at Violet, turning away saltily.

Violet giggled. “Woah, You must be the paranoid type.”

Pearl harrumphed.

Violet rolled her eyes and leaned over, poking at the teen’s back. “So you’re seventeen. That’s not so bad.”

Pearl slunk further within herself.

“I’m twenty-two,” said Violet cheerily.

Pearl remained silent.

Violet shrugged and went back to staring into the shadows. Her eyes itched and she wanted to try and go to sleep, but her leg still smarted, even under all the haze.

After a while, she jiggled her uninjured leg impatiently. “Peeeaaarrrrl,” she whined. “I’m hungry.”

The teen turned to her. “You’re not allowed.”

Violet looked as if someone had struck her in the face. “Not allowed?” she echoed incredulously. “ _Why_?”

“ ‘Cause the snake venom might make you upchuck and if you do that into your lungs you’ll die.”

Violet smacked her forehead. “No, no that won’t happen! The hash-- you can’t hurl if you smoke hash.”

“Really?”

Violet nodded. It felt funny, so she kept doing it. Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy -- Pearl grabbed her. “Oh,” Violet remembered. “Yeah we used to smoke hash before going out so we wouldn’t throw up when we drank too much!”

“Did that _work?”_

“Yeah, of course it did -- you calling me a liar?”

Pearl shook her head. So it was decided they would eat. And they did. In fact, they ate most of their provisions for the trip, but Pearl just couldn’t stop herself. She was _so hungry_ and the jerky was _so good_.

…

“Seventeen,” said Violet. She was still leaning against her tree, not being able to move with her leg and all.

“Mhm.” Pearl was lying down in the dirt next to Violet. The heiress’ eyes looked so much like amber in the firelight. She just wanted to keep looking into them. See what critters got stuck inside years and years ago.

Those eyes were far away when she started talking. “My mom was seventeen when she married my dad.”

Her voice was just so enchanting, like a siren casting a spell, so shiny. Pearl hung onto every word, only half hearing their meaning.

“She was European. Won this big beauty contest. There’s this photograph of her when she won. She was so beautiful. I remember always looking at it and thinking I wanna look just like her one day.”

“Why’d you need a photograph?” asked Pearl. “Couldn’t you just look at her?” The second it came out Pearl felt bad. She’d interrupted Violet, made her stop talking. And from her face… she’d made Violet sad.

“I didn’t actually get to know her,” confessed Violet. “Her family lived in Europe still and we were in New York. I was really young when she was going back to visit them. Her boat never made it to Europe.”

The sad crackling of the dying fire took up all the sound in the grove. Pearl knew somewhere far away that she should keep the fire going but her body just felt so sluggish. She couldn’t be bothered to move, she just wanted to listen to Violet tell stories -- even sad stories -- and look up at the stars as they danced against the black sky.

It only seemed fitting that Pearl say something about her mother after Violet’s spill. “Ma’s not my real ma.”

“What?”

Pearl knitted her brows together. “Ma, the lady that calls herself ma. And Pap, him too. All my brothers and cousins.” Pearl looked up to see Violet was watching with intent. “None of us are blood.

“I mean, some of ‘em are brothers and cousins and all,” amended Pearl. “But we just say that. All of us ’r ‘dopted.”

“Why do you call each other that then?” Violet’s voice was like silk. Pearl had never felt silk but she imagined it was smooth and expensive feeling.

Pearl shrugged. “I think ‘cause it makes us more loyal. And if you start callin’ people family, after a while, you believe it.”

“Do you know what your real mother was like?” asked Violet gently. “Do you remember?”

Pearl shook her head. It was getting chilly with the fire going out, so she shuffled closer to Violet. “All I ‘member is Ma and Pap.”

After a few moments, Violet put together a question. “But if that’s all you’ve known all your life… how did you know you were adopted? Did they tell you?”

“No,” Pearl hummed. “They wouldn’t if I asked them. Blood never mattered, so long as you treated each other like family… but after I figured out most every one of my brothers was someone else’s family once, I realized I wasn’t no differn’t from them.” She took a breath of clean air. The hash had run out. “D’you have any siblings? Blood or otherwise?”

Violet brushed her hand through her jet black hair. Pearl watched, thinking she looked just like a model on one of those postcards all the boys fawned over. “I was the only child. My dad never remarried after my mother. Sometimes I kind of wish he had.” She looked at Pearl. Her eyes were raw. “When I was a kid I’d even pretend I had a stepmother.”

Pearl smiled up at her.

After a while, Pearl folded her arms across her chest and rubbed her shoulders.

“You cold?” asked Violet. Pearl nodded and Violet opened her arms to her.

Pearl rested her cheek awkwardly on Violet’s shoulder, at first unable to get comfortable.

“Why don’t you put your hands on the leg?” offered Violet. “It’s almost as good as a fire.”

Pearl looked down and winced. “I’m sorry about that.”

Violet made a sound in the back of her throat. “Why are you sorry?”

Pearl pulled away from the heiress. If she knew how bad Pearl screwed up, that she was the reason Violet was in such pain? Pearl had no clue what would be done to her.

“Hey, look at me,” Violet ordered.

Guiltily, Pearl turned. Violet grabbed hold of her chin and lifted her head. Their faces were so close together, their noses a finger’s length apart. Pearl couldn’t look into Violet’s eyes, something about them -- she couldn’t let herself. She had to come clean. “I was supposed to be looking after you and I didn’t pay attention because I was selfish and awful and I let you down and I let Katya down and now you might die--” her voice cracked. “Because I failed.”

“Pearl,” Violet’s voice was stern. “Look. At. Me.”

Pearl squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. Violet didn’t move, keeping her hand locked on Pearl’s lower jaw. She finally worked up the courage to open her eyes, her whole body trembling with guilt and shame.

Then Violet leaned forward… and kissed her.

Pearl felt electricity buzz through her. A warmth bloomed out from her chest.

Too soon, Violet pulled back, and Pearl couldn’t help the urge to keep leaning in. Her heart pounded, her head felt all dizzy, but in the best way, like the hash only better. The raven-haired heiress flipped her loose hair over her shoulder. “I had to get you to stop talking bad about yourself.”

Pearl blinked. She’d have to be self-destructive more often.

Violet shuffled back against her tree. “Come on,” she said lightly, opening her body to Pearl. “The night’s cold, kid, you wanna cuddle for warmth or not?”

Pearl was speechless. She didn’t understand -- how could Violet kiss her and then act like nothing had happened? She was impatiently tapping the ground next to her; Pearl shuffled in, leaning on Violet’s uninjured side. She rested her cheek just above Violet’s breast, the woman’s collarbone against Pearl’s cheek. Violet traced a finger through Pearl’s messy hair; Pearl stiffened, then relaxed into the touch. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had held her.

Unknowing what to say, Pearl found words constantly bubbling up, only to fizzle out again, like a sad geyser. Always Violet played with her hair or traced lines on her back. After forever, Violet cooed, “You ever been kissed before that?”

Pearl shook her head slowly. “Not like that. _Never_ like that. And never by a girl.” She looked up at Violet with pleading eyes. “And if it’s allright with you, I’d very much like to do it again.”

Violet laughed, a good healthy laugh. Pearl’s heart jumped to her throat when Violet leaned down, only for the heiress to grab hold of her face, push it back down and kiss the crown of Pearl’s head.

Pearl whined, for the first time since she was a child.

Violet rubbed her back. “Go to sleep, little miss seventeen.”

Violet told her to, so Pearl was asleep on her breast within the next ten minutes.

  



	6. The Race is On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the three days that follow Katya's departure, Violet takes a turn for the worse, Pearl becomes desperate for options, and Katya develops saddle sores from all the riding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so for this chapter trigger warnings for puking, and i dont know if it counts as suicidal if they beg for death but be warned of that too. also tw for pioneer medicine but i dont describe that in depth because it also grosses me out.

People aren’t too creative with naming their horses, Katya observed. She rode on the back of a russet through the patchy grassland-scape of the American West. The horse was named Ginger, which made the immigrant roll her eyes. How basic, how unremarkable! “Name a horse after your dead grandma, after your childhood dog,” she thought aloud. “Naming a red horse Ginger, a speckled horse Spot, a brown horse Chocolate or Coffee -- it’s like naming your child ‘Firstborn’. No imagination.” She leaned forward in her saddle and stroked the part in Ginger’s mane. “Don’t you think so?”

Ginger chuffed.

Katya righted herself again and checked the shadows of the brush around her. Her lips pressed together into a firm line. She shouldn’t push Ginger too much, but a night and half a day’s ride behind her, Violet would be miserable with rattler venom. She didn’t have much time to let the horse rest in between gallops. Katya had taken the strongest of the horses when she’d left, but now was reconsidering. Should she have taken the spotted one? Pearl’s horse Ethel which stood a good palm’s length shorter than Ginger? Or Violet’s blue dun, Alfredo, which was middle height and more expensive than either Katya or Pearl’s.

Violet wanted to go in style, Katya recalled with a pang.

With the side of her boots, Katya gently kicked Ginger in her sides. The horse seemed to groan beneath her. “I know, girl,” said Katya. She clucked her teeth and extended her reigns. The russet reared up slightly, but Katya remained steadfast in the saddle. _“Davay zhe,”_ she said through her teeth.

Ginger again had all four hooves on the ground. Katya gave another, softer kick. Ginger padded into a canter. “That’s all right now,” said Katya. “Compromise.” She shook her head. She had considered not stopping at the stream that ran at the edge of Doc Fame’s property, but now saw she’d have to take the extra time. And ask to borrow a horse.

***

When the haze faded and the hash ran out, Violet became a very different person.

Eating most of their food stores the previous night had not set them up for success.

Pearl padded around a pitiful creekbed, plucking any edible plants she could recognize. She doubted Violet would take kindly to many of their options, but if she couldn’t find a rabbit or gopher to roast, they’d be down to what she could forage. Either way, she’d have to build a new fire.

Ma always said it was important to learn how to survive out in the wilderness. In case you got stranded. The noonday sun beat down on Pearl’s shoulders and arms through her sleeves. She sensed that she had gathered all there was to be found in this place, but she kept strolling down the dry bed of the creek.

Mostly she was avoiding going back to Violet. It was bad to stall, especially since she was supposed to be making sure Violet wouldn’t die -- or at least wouldn’t die alone. This morning the heiress was plenty strong enough to talk… and complain, insult Pearl, and be generally unpleasant.

Pearl climbed her way out of the creek bed and stuck her fingers in her mouth to whistle at Ethel. She wanted a higher up view of the desert around her, thinking maybe she could find some Yucca for Violet. It was supposed to help with swelling, but Violet’s leg was already amounts of red and puffy that Pearl suspected could only be helped with the best _curandera._

Pearl tried to picture Cousin Liluye in her mind. Liluye was the only _curandera_ their gang had ever met, and most of the people didn’t believe she counted as a true medicine woman. Even though she’d been trained down in the Chihuahua mountains for years, the boys who believed in the magic of the _curandera_ claimed Liluye was too young to have the magic of the earth.

Even if her powers were weak compared to true _curanderas,_ Pearl wished in the deepest part of her soul for Liluye now. She made her head hurt trying to imagine her. Liluye. She only ever wore woven moccasins, but on her body she wore many of the modern clothes, partly sewn by machines back East. Her magic bag made of material Pearl had never been able to name.

Pearl had been much smaller when Liluye ran with them for that season. She remembered staying up past when she was supposed to, and creeping like a serpent at the edge of the shadows to where the older girl slept. Pearl remembered phantom feeling in her hands, like stinging sap, and the feeling was Liluye’s bag calling to her. It was rare that she would be asleep when Pearl laid eyes upon her, and as if by some magic, Liluye always knew immediately when Pearl was there. She’d turn to Pearl, her long features shining in the moonlight, her every pore and scar visible in shadows. Her deep brown eyes seemed so much older than any white-haired man or woman Pearl had seen. She would motion to the place beside her, and Pearl would sit, and Liluye would teach her the stars.

Now the mid morning had become afternoon sun, and it was time to return to Violet, no matter how little Pearl wanted to be in her presence. Still, every spare moment she had, Pearl would devote it to prayer, whispering to the winds and the soil. She didn’t even know if her old friend was still alive, but it was her only hope. The doctor was so far away, and, Pearl feared, the doctor would not be fast enough.

***

What was that song someone would sing? When on long rides like this, your ass cramping, your mind wandering where it oughtn’t… somebody in the gang would begin a whistle, and somebody else would fill in…

_Did you ever hear tell of Sweet Betsy from Pike,_

_Who crossed the wide desert with her lover, Ike,_

_Something something… and a big yellow dog_

_And… there was oxen and I think a hog_

_Singing too-ra-lee-ooh-ra-lee-ooh-ra-lee-ay._

Katya couldn’t remember the next verse or two to save her ass, but the one she did remember went:

_And out on the prairie one starry night,_

_They broke out the whiskey and Betsy got tight_

_They sang and they shouted and she danced o’er the plane_

_And she showed her bare ass to the whole wagon train!_

Katya rocked from side to side in Ginger’s saddle. She now saw the bottle-opener peak of the mountain that meant turn north to the Fame Ranch. Ginger complained. Katya rolled her eyes and allowed her noble steed another walking rest. She was riding in deep twilight, but she knew there weren’t any more dangers on this side of the journey -- she’d driven Ginger around the gulch and down sliding gravel without terrible difficulty, and she knew Fame kept her cattle around, so she could make it to the safe grazing zone without running Ginger into cacti.

***

Violet was digging her fingertips into the sand when Pearl returned. Her face was set in a sour way. Her skin was pink with heat and a layer of sweat clung to her face. Pearl offered a smile in greeting and quickly set to relighting the fire.

She found her eyes aching to check Violet’s leg, but it had been morning when she’d left, and it was only getting to be noon now. There wouldn’t -- shouldn’t be much change. Pearl lifted her head up but didn’t dare look Violet in the eye. She had to stop herself before almost asking Violet ‘how’s the leg?’ She’d found out the answer to that this morning. It was a shrill _the fuck do you THINK?_

“Anything new with the leg?” asked Pearl carefully.

Violet breathed out hard. “Keeps creeping up.”

Pearl nodded and continued her work with the fire. She aimed her spark rocks toward the grasses she’d grabbed on her way back. So far she was just getting smolders.

“God!” Violet let out a scream and threw a fistfull of gravel in no particular direction. “Where the FUCK is Katya?”

Pearl pursed her lips and breathed in. The spark took; a small victory. “Hey!” she directed Violet’s attention to her success. “Got it.”

Violet sneered. “Good for you.”

Pearl forced herself to keep being pleasant despite Violet’s burning angry eyes on her back. To keep herself from getting mad and yelling at Violet, like she had before she’d ridden off this morning, Pearl started humming.

***

Katya found herself jerking awake on Ginger’s back. It was dark, and her good senses told her to stop and rest. To stop, wait to continue ‘til morning. It had never occurred to Katya before now that she had never before risked herself over someone else. She’d never ridden through the night alone for unselfish reasons. And maybe this was in some way selfish -- she wouldn’t be able to collect her reward without bringing Violet back alive.

But still, she _could_ wait out the night. She _could_ take off in another direction entirely. She could be in Peru by the time Mr Chachki’s men realized the jig was up. _Trabajador fuerte. Puedo cadar?_

That’s what she might have done before. And it wasn’t even because of the money, or the threat of being dragged across the continent back to _that_ place.

Katya shook the sleep from her shoulders and clapped each of her cheeks once. “Almost there, girl. Almost there.”

She couldn’t say if she was talking to the horse or herself.

***

 

“I could sing to you. It’s how the drivers get the cattle to sleep.”

“I’m not a goddamned cow!” Violet snapped.

“No,” Pearl agreed. “It’s the opposite, actually. How’d you let yourself get so skinny? That’s honestly a worse signal than feelin’ sick.”

“Oh my GOD shut up.” Violet’s breathing spasmed and Pearl about had a heart attack before realizing that the heiress was crying. Again. Pearl hadn’t been taught how to count past ten, but she knew Violet had shed tears in the past day and night enough times to have to start counting on toes.

“Jesus, did no one tell you this is a desert?” Pearl exclaimed in frustration. “You’re losing important water from your eyeballs.”

Violet pounded her fists into the dirt; a common way for her to cope. “Did I mention it ITCHES now??”

“You did. Did those crushed herbs really not work?”

Violet briefly bit down on her finger. She grunted. “I’m sure that tribal medicine or whatever works on bug bites and sunburns— GOD!”

Pearl felt something in her chest ache for Violet. The heiress was splotchy and red. She’d pulled her hair down and pinned it up so it was off her neck and then yanked it down again so now her black hair was full of debris and snarls. Violet’s abused mane made her look wild and inhuman. Pearl felt the urge to help comb it out, but that would probably just insult Violet further.

She pressed her lips together. “Any chance you’ll be sleeping tonight?”

Violet rolled her eyes. “I can’t even feel my leg anymore, now the burning feeling is up to my ribs, I haven’t eaten since this morning, there’s no booze or hash left and I’m sitting in a puddle of piss.”

Pearl wanted to curl up like an armadillo and block out the world. Well, not the whole world, just her world right now. And she felt guilty for wanting that — she wasn't even the one trapped in a slowly dying body, feeling fire creep up toward her chest, knowing that when it reached her heart, she’d die. “I can stay up with you,” said Pearl, rubbing at her eye.

Violet huffed. “Go to sleep,” she said ruefully. “Enjoy it. I’ll keep watch.”

Pearl felt a joke prick at the corners of her mouth. She stuffed it away, but Violet saw. “What.”

Pearl curled her shoulder under her saddlebag which she was using as a pillow. “It’s just,” she smiled. “What do you think we keep watch for?”

Violet shrugged. “Oh, I dunno, the kind of people who roam the lands looking to rob people.”

Pearl giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Violet challenged, the level of spite in her voice relaxing.

Pearl rested her head on her fist and looked up at Violet, who somehow still managed to look important even now. “You don’t have to worry about robbers out here,” she said. “There’s no real roads out here to rob people on.”

Violet got a confused look on her face, and then seemed to remember something. “Oh,” she said with a flap of her hand. “I forgot.”

There was a moment of quiet. Pearl stared into the fire and felt her mind pulling her to rest. She shifted in the dirt to get more comfortable. Before she closed her eyes all the way though, she saw Violet’s face sour. Violet bit her finger again and let out a tiny scream.

“I could stay up with you,” Pearl offered weakly.

“No,” Violet said. Her voice was firm. “I’m _not_ going to die tonight.”

Violet didn't seem to know if she was talking to Pearl or to herself.

Pearl was making tiny snoring noises within ten or so minutes.

The sound was so cute Violet wanted to punch her.

***

_One evening quite early they camped on the Platte_

_Made down their blankets on a green shady flat_

_Where Betsy, sore-footed, lay down to repose_

_With wonder Ike gazed on his Pike County rose_

***

By the time Ginger lapped greedily at the stream, Katya was delirious. Delirious and energetic. She felt her painfully numb feet hit the rocky landscape every step of the way up toward Fame’s house.

Her legs protested and her groin slowly woke up as she forced her body to run up the slope. The ranch house had a light on inside. Katya felt sticker bushes smack against her clothes as she ran through the dark. The incline up to the house steepened and she leaned forward, scrambling up the slope on four legs like a desperate animal.

The door swung open. Katya was panting and at the edge of the porch — she couldn’t see who it was. Words fell from her mouth but she didn't know what she’d said after the person — had to be Doc herself — hauled her to her feet and ushered her inside.

***

“No, no, there's no time…” Katya protested from the old sofa.

Doc grabbed bits and ends from here and there around the ranch house and stuffed them in her medical bag. “You’re right about that,” she said. “Which is why I need to get the horses ready and tell Nina to take care of the mount you rode in on— you’re certain it was a rattler?”

“Definitely,” said Katya, sinking into the cushion.

Fame swore under her breath and rifled through her drawers some more. “You’ve got precious time before we head out, so I recommend you use it,” she said, her voice stern. “Don’t you worry, I’m not leavin’ without you.”

Katya, her eyes closed, nodded a little. Sleep was already pulling her down…

Meanwhile, Fame took up a lantern and headed out the door. If only Nina would agree to sleep in the guest room in the house. The stable wasn’t far away, but still.

The woman heard Fame’s approach and opened the stable door. Nina already had her coat and shoes on, prepared for an adventure. She looked to Fame for instruction.

“Emergency call,” Fame huffed. “Snakebite. Rattler. Day and a half’s ride here…” She didn’t even have to finish her explanation; Nina had turned around and walked toward the Doc’s go-to, Camanche’s stall.

“There’ll be two of us,” Fame added. “Caller left her ride at our stream, I’m gonna need you to go out and grab ‘er. When you can. And—“

Nina cut her off. “ _After_ I prepare your horses, I will find the lost one, if she has not been already eaten by _coyote_.”

Fame smiled and let her shoulders relax. Nina would have everything taken care of, as she always did. It was a lot of responsibility for one person, especially when Fame was gone for days. She had to keep reminding herself that Nina had grown up on a ranch in Mexico before her family had been run out of the area. Still, it was baffling how _easy_ it was for Nina — Especially when Fame had had to apprentice for years to be able to manage her own property.

Back inside, Fame checked her time piece. Perhaps they’d be able to head out by one in the morning. She cast a glance at the weary traveller passed out on her couch. _Maybe not that early_ , she thought.

***

_The alkali desert was burning and bare,_

_And Ike’s good heart shrank from the death that lurked there,_

_“Dear Old Pike County, I’ll go back to you.”_

_Said Betsy, “You’ll go by yourself if you do!”_

***

“Pearl? Pearl. Pearl. PEARL!”

She jerked awake to someone screaming her name. It’s shrill and panicked and desperate. For a second, Pearl thought Ma and the others had caught her— she’d never really be able to get away, she knew better. Pearl was on her feet, having thrown the saddlebag over her shoulder and prepped her half-asleep muscles to run. Then she looked to her right, and saw Violet.

And it all came flooding back to her.

And Pearl dropped to her knees. The saddlebag slumped from her shoulder and she had to catch herself. Gravel bit into her palms.

“Pearl, they’re coming, they’re closing in I can feel their — their paws rattle, rattle, rattle the ground.” Violet babbled.

Pearl slunk back into the dirt, back into the fetal position, saddlebag under her head. She could get some much needed rest for another hour or so before the break of dawn.

“No, no, no, Pearl!” Violet insisted. “They’re so loud, you can— can’t no- ot h-he—“ Violet started retching.

Pearl forced herself to get up, even though it felt like the earth was sucking her down. Even though all she wanted was to go back to sleep and wake up years later. When this was all over, one way or the other. She wanted to let the earth swallow her up.

But she got up. And she went over to Violet. And she pinned up her dark hair, and wiped the strings of swallowed spit from Violet’s chin.

“I ca— I can’t,” Violet panted. “It’s so… _loud_.” She let out a whimper. If she had any tears left, Pearl knew she’d be crying. As it was, Violet seized up in tearless sobs.

Pearl had to catch her before she keeled over into her own puddle.

***

The desert on the way back seemed warped somehow. Anxiety rolled around in Katya’s guts while they rode through darkness. The few hours of shut-eye Doc had graced her with allowed Katya to go on. She still felt like the world around her was clipping along like pages blown by the wind.

Doc always kept the fastest horses. Her steed was speckled. Katya was riding a lean mare and she felt like the name was something to do with wind. Storm, she remembered. Gifted to Doc as payment. Folks out here don’t have much in money, but whenever they have a debt, they pay with what they can. Carpenter offers to build Doc’s barn. Rancher offers first cut of meat. The Thunder ranch outside Haven pays in mounts.

Katya jerked. She hadn’t realized she’s been falling asleep. Doc Fame is a good fifty yards ahead of her. She nudges Storm, and hears the empty cart behind her clatter in the gravel.

Catching up to Fame, Katya speaks over the sound of hooves and the cart. “I about fell asleep just now.”

Fame glanced over at her. “Yeah, tiredness is a real enemy, I am very familiar.”

Katya nodded. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything for that, would you?”

Fame gave a more comprehensive examination of Katya’s situation. “You know my feelings about doling out—“

“Christ, I’m not asking you to crush up coca leaves, Doc!” Katya laughed humorlessly. “I’m just asking if you keep coffee.”

Doc pursed her lips. “I do. And I can spare some if you can make it to our next rest.”

Katya scrunched her face up and shook her head, trying to wake herself up. She almost asked when about that next rest would be, but thought Doc wouldn’t take kindly to that line of thinking. Instead, she said, “I prob’ly can. It’ll be easier if we talk, or I talk.”

Fame leaned back in her saddle. “Fair enough,” she said. “Why are you back in these parts?”

Katya couldn’t help feeling confused. She tried to remember last time she’d seen Doc Fame. Back when she was running with the gang, certainly.

“Don’t think that since folks live so far away, that word doesn’t travel,” cautioned the doctor. “You got tossed to the lawmen, last I heard. The things they pinned on you, I expected your body to be pecked clean by now.”

Katya couldn’t help but chuckle. She fixed her eyes on the horizon.

“But really,” said Fame after Katya didn’t reply. “How in the Sam Hill are you allowed to breathe right now? I mean, those business barons don’t dance around.”

Katya took in a sharp breath. She tasted the dust at the back of her throat. “They knew I wasn’t guilty.”

“Who, the lawmen? They don’t care if you’re innocent, most of them,” said Fame.

Katya shook her head. “No, the railroad baron, and his people,” she said. “They knew I didn’t do the job. Don’t ask me how they knew, but they did.”

“Must have some kind of spies,” commented Fame.

“Definitely,” said Katya. “But the man in charge thought it’d be a good _asset_ to the company, for me to earn my, my…” She waved her hand in search for the word in English.

“To work off your debt?” Fame offered.

“ _Da!_ ” Exclaimed Katya. “That! But because they spared me from gallows, is possible they keep me tied to them as long as they want.”

She was sweating. Truthfully, Katya had had this anxiety for a while, but she couldn’t very well tell her companions. _Violet,_ she thought with a pang. Suddenly Katya wanted to kick her heel into Storm and sprint the whole way back. “Tell me again how much time saved on your horses.”

“Half a day, at the least.” Fame’s voice was measured an even, sensing Katya’s sudden nerves.

“Will that even be enough time?” Katya growled.

Fame pulled her steed, Camanche, to a halt. “How about we take that rest now, hm?”

 

***

Dawn was breaking. The second since Katya left. Pearl’s eyes were dry. She felt familiar levels of grainy sand coating her skin and clothes. She remembered times with brothers and cousins where they’d stayed three, four days out on camps. Thinking of it now, Pearl wondered what was really going on when Ma and Pa sent the kids away. They were never in groups of more than seven, but the average size was five. What was really happening between Ma and Pa that was so important it had to be secret? Everybody in the gang had seen everybody else pop a squat in the desert. Everybody's seen each other bathe.

She couldn’t imagine what secrets Ma and Pa had -- they were criminals. They taught their kids to shoot, to hunt, to rob people and fight. The gang had driven a load of stolen cattle across the border once. They had hauled illegal cargo, split up in bands to look for an outlaw with a reward of a thousand dollars on his head. Cousin Bo caught him, and ran off with the reward. Rumor told that the Edwardses caught him. That was the only reason most could think for how the rival gang ended up with a small cavalry in so short of time.

In her lap, Violet stirred. Pearl swept hair out of Violet’s face. The heiress shivered. Pearl turned toward the Eastern horizon. She could almost imagine two figures on horseback riding out from in front of that golden sun.

Violet coughed, and Pearl shifted to make room next to Violet’s face. The heiress twitched and panted, but nothing came up. Supporting Violet by the shoulder and back, Pearl felt the edges of Violet’s bones like rocks through a sleeping bag. She closed her eyes and gently rubbed circles in Violet’s back.

A bony hand clutched Pearl by the wrist. She guided Violet back into her lap. She could see half of Violet’s sunken face. Behind patchy lashes, Violet’s dark eyes were foggy. She was still panting from her fit, and she patted Pearl’s hand, letting her eyes slide shut.

“What do you need?” asked Pearl.

Violet squeezed her eyes shut -- an action which stretched her thin-looking skin further over her cheekbones, which were even more pronounced after days without eating. Her lips moved but no sound came out.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to be louder,” said Pearl. “I can lean down if you can whisper.”

Violet nodded slightly and opened her eyes halfway. Pearl leaned her ear closer. She smelled vomit and decay on Violet’s breath. “Can’t you…”

Pearl shook her head. “Can’t I… what? I’m sorry I didn’t--”

“Kill me.”

Pearl sat up straight. “Did I just hear…?” she looked to Violet for assurance.

Violet nodded, and mouthed the words again. _Kill me._

What do you…” Pearl cast a glance at her pistol in its holster. “Why?”

Violet’s shaking hand wrapped back around Pearl’s wrist. She gritted her teeth and let out a quiet scream from the back of her throat. “Come _on_. You’d know how to make it quick.”

“And how’d you think that’d look, huh?” Pearl jerked Violet’s shoulders. “How am I supposed to explain the hole in your head when Katya comes back?”

“You’re smart, figure it out,” Violet sneered.

Pearl let the fact that Violet had called her smart fly right on by. “Putting you out of your misery would be me sayin’ ‘here I am, murderer, holdin’ a smoking gun, tie a rope around my neck and turn me into buzzard food.’ ”

“I want to _die_.” Violet removed her hand from Pearl’s arm and banged her fist into the dust.

“I know,” Pearl growled. “And I prob’ly would too if I was you, but I can’t do it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Violet spat.

“Won’t.”

Violet’s voice came out shrill. “Why?”

“You should get your ears cleaned; I just told you,” said Pearl humorlessly.

Violet went quiet for a while. She let Pearl stroke her clammy cheeks and hairline. She gazed into the middle distance, not able to talk anymore. She wasn’t really able to think anymore, really. Her lower body was monstrous. Her torso was a puffy patchwork of swelling and veins. Her wound, which she could barely feel, she only remembered because of the ever-present itching sensation, and the feeling of her knee stuck unbent. It had been growing harder to breathe, and now, her chest tight and shallow, Violet’s mind slowly drifted away…

By the time the egg-yolk sun crested over the eastern horizon, Violet had fallen fully unresponsive. Pearl took a blade of grass and fastened it around Violet’s ear so it fell just above Violet’s damp upper lip. She could only barely see the rise and fall of Violet’s bony chest, so she needed a better way to keep track if Violet was still breathing. The tendril of grass was buffeted by Violet’s breath -- pulled inward when she took breath in, and shaking wildly in resistance to breath out. Pearl kicked the dirt.

It was the best she could do.

***

_They came to the desert, where Betsy gave out._

_And down in the sand she lay rolling about,_

_While Ike in great wonder looked on in surprise,_

_Saying, “Betsy, get up, you’ll get sand in your eyes.”_

***

Katya burned in self hatred. They galloped across the desert to make up for lost time. She hadn’t had coffee in a while, and she also hadn’t had much real food in days, so when Fame finally relented and gave her a couple beans to chew on for the road, Katya’s guts rioted. Full of embarrassment, fatigue, and anger, Katya had had to dismount mid-stride and sprint behind the nearest desert bush to pop a squat. Fame realized not so long after that her companion was missing, and she fell back to recover Katya. The Good Doctor, in her saintliness, returned to Katya with a stack of leaves she’d pulled from a nearby wider-leafed shrub. With her knowledge of the native plants, she thankfully knew the difference between the kind of shrubbery what caused redness and itching, as opposed to the kinds that didn’t.

Merciful as well, Fame sat upright on Camanche a good twenty feet away from Katya. She whistled a bit and stroked Camanche’s mane. Eventually, Katya soundlessly returned to Storm, hauling herself back into the saddle once again.

“You good?” asked Fame, eyes on the western sky.

“We’ve lost enough time.” Katya kicked Storm’s sides with the sides of her boots, perhaps more firmly than she should have. Storm reared up slightly before taking off in their original direction.

Fame huffed out a breath before she clucked for Camanche to follow.

***

_Sweet Betsy got up in a good deal of pain,_

_And said she’d go back to Pike County again,_

_But Ike gave a sigh and they fondly embraced,_

_And they traveled along with his arm ‘round her waist._

_***_

Pearl rifled around in the bags Katya had left behind for speed. She had to have brought one -- if she’d run with The Edwards gang, she had to be one that prepared for every possibility. All Pearl needed was a proper knife -- something with more size than her trusty pocket knife. The spring she’d found yesterday was much farther away than she felt comfortable venturing now. She had Violet resting on her side, a good few feet from her old dirty spot, so she didn’t have to soak in her waste anymore.

She remembered Liluye pushing one of the cousins -- she couldn’t remember the name -- on his side when he got real sick from tryin’ to drink cactus water. She remembered Liluye looking each of them in the eye, digging it into their souls: _cactus water is poison. There is one only that is safe. Look for a spring or tall trees with wide leaves. These are true ways to find water._ Some time after that, on one of their walks, Liluye had pointed out a barrel cactus, a little shorter than Pearl had been and about as thick around as Pa’s belly. She also pointed to a few younger, more gord-looking cacti nearby. _This is the one safe cactus_ _,_ she’d said. _Only try and drink from it if you are near death, for it is very easy to mistake._

Violet was near death. Violet needed water. Pearl was pretty thirsty too, but could be a man about it. At last, she found what she was looking for -- a decent-sized machete.

Because of Liluye’s other teachings, Pearl also knew that to get it wrong would mean drying out a perfectly good plant for no benefit. When you live in the desert, it isn’t so hard to imagine all creatures have a spirit, and to wrong them is to wrong nature itself. And when that nature is very capable of killing you, you respect it. So she went out of her way to try and remember what the kind of cactus looked like -- both old and young varieties. She found a few good candidates, all within seeing distance of Violet. Pearl took out one of Katya’s clean neckerchiefs and her machete, walking back and forth among the barrel cacti she could find. She kept whispering to the image of Liluye. Pearl grabbed some more edible plants along the way, thanking the earth each time she plucked or pulled a growing thing from its place.

Tired just from walking the distances over and over, Pearl sat in the dust and forced down some of the more pleasant roots she’d gathered. She didn’t have time to make them palatable; she had to test the cactus water and she wasn’t going to succeed one way or the other if she did so on an empty stomach.

Digesting, She circled the barrel cactus of her choice. At last, Pearl heaved her machete into the cactus... and it got stuck. It took a good few tries to find the angle that released her machete, but when she did, the blade came out covered in sticky, off-smelling cactus juice. She licked the knife and winced. It tasted bad -- but was it _poison_ bad?

She hacked into the cactus again. And again. And again, flicking away pieces of stiff green flesh. A couple needles got stuck in Pearl’s wrist, but she went on hacking until she was satisfied she’d made it into the middle part of the cactus, where all the water was. She stuck her kerchief into the middle of the hollow she’d made and left it there to soak in the juice. Then she grabbed one of the larger chunks on the ground -- stole it away from a brave jackrabbit -- and started sucking at the moist insides. All the while she imagined Liluye looking over her shoulder, her blurry expression tentative.

***

“I’ll need to make sure you’re still on your horse,” said Fame. “So either you talk or sing or something or we have to have a heart-to-heart and talk about our feelings and shit.”

Katya was in some fractured space. The coffee had her awake, but not necessarily aware. She saw her surroundings and nothing was blurry with sleep anymore, but she suspected if a bird dive-bombed her hat, she wouldn’t be able to swat it away in time. In the same way, Fame’s words were heard, but not really understood.

Fame cleared her throat. “So tell me, Red, when was the first time you got your heart broken?”

Katya’s gaze was still locked on the horizon, but her mouth and brain finally connected. She started singing _Home on the Rang_ _e_ with her tired, scratchy voice. Fame, smiling, joined in until they ran out of verses. Then, Katya whistled the tune, and Fame hummed along. Katya’s mouth dried out, and Fame decided it was time to speed up their pace again.

You can’t really talk while at a full gallop, so for the next couple minutes, Fame cast glances behind her every few minutes to make sure Katya was still following. When Storm started to slow down, Fame slowed Camanche. They were approaching more hilly areas anyway. This part of the trek marked the end of the flatter, prairie area around Fame’s ranch. They’d passed the gravelly area already, where Storm had hit a skid on a previous journey. Fame’s heart had gone into her throat at the thought of a possibly traumatized mount facing that obstacle again, this time with a rider as erratic and anxious as Katya on coffee. Nevertheless, they’d forded the gravel, and during the next rest, Fame had presented Storm with a sugar cube as reward.

Now that they trotted up and over hills and rock faces, Fame turned back to Katya with a smile. “How ‘bout we play ‘do you see what I see?’”

Katya coughed a laugh. “Alright, hit me.”

Fame looked around. There really wasn’t much _to_ see. Brush. Ground. Sky. Mountains in the distance. The two of them. That was it. “I see something… blue.”

Katya kept looking at the ground and shook her head. “Is it the sky?”

“You got it! Well done!” chirped Fame in what felt like the tone of a white nanny. “Now it’s your turn.”

Katya rolled her eyes, barely looking up. “I see something brown.”

Fame gazed down at her mount’s neck and hindquarters. “Is it Camanche’s lovely brown spots?”

Katya looked up quizzically. “Camanche has brown spots?”

Fame pointed to an area on her horse’s backside, but Katya couldn’t see anything different in his coat. She shrugged.

“So that wasn’t it?” said Fame, turning back around.

“Nah,” said Katya. Storm hesitated, trying to figure out how to climb a steep bit of rock. She opened her mouth to say more, but the horse vaulted up the rock face, jolting her enough to make her bite down on the inside of her cheek. “Shit!”

“You saw shit?” asked Fame.

“No.” Katya shot a glare at the doctor while she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “How about,” she said, after taking a deep breath. “We continue the next part of the journey in quiet meditation.”

“Alright.” Fame shrugged. “So long as you keep by my side. I can’t be losing you in the wilderness.”

Katya huffed. “You can’t be losing your expensive horse, you mean.”

The doctor pulled Camanche so slow they were almost stopped, and turned them so they were right in Katya’s path. “You think I’m out in the sun ‘cause I want to be? I’d rather be feeding my chickens right about now, but I’m riding close to twenty hours with your sorry ass ‘cause I’m needed. Now I can’t do my job if you drop off as navigator, so I need you with me on this, you understand?”

Katya shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. Storm came to a natural stop in front of Fame and Camanche. She felt like she’d been chewed out by her mother. Sometimes the leaders of her old gang would try and lay down the law with her, but they were lawbreakers, so Katya had never paid it much mind. This was Doc Fame, she remembered guiltily. The only hope for her freedom and Violet’s life. She swallowed and turned half her face up so Fame could see how pink she’d gotten. “Yes’m.”

“Good.” Fame nodded sternly. Turning back to the course she and Katya had laid out back at the house, Fame took off at a stiff trot.

Katya let herself sulk a moment before clucking with her teeth so Storm would follow. She shrugged her shoulders, sat up a little straighter, plastered a painful smile on her face, and directed Storm to canter so they could catch up with the Doc.

“So,” said Katya, striding up next to Fame again. “I see something big and blue.”

Fame stuffed her tongue into her cheek, but couldn't help from smiling. “Is it the sky?”

“It sure is,” grinned Katya. “You know in Russian we have more than one word for ‘blue’. One is for sky, other for sea.”

“Oh, how interesting,” said Fame. “Bet you don’t get much use of the other word out here.” she motioned toward the desert landscape that surrounded them. The sky took up more space than the land.

Katya smiled despite herself. “I do not.” She reached under her hat to ruffle her hair.

“How do you say the color for the sky?” asked Fame.

“Голубой,” answered Katya.

“Ga-lu-boy,” Fame echoed.

“Gah- _loo_ -boy,” Katya stressed.

Fame said the word with her whole head and neck. “Gal-ooh-boy.”

 _“Da.”_ Katya motioned with her hand. “That.”

Fame looked around for a couple seconds before saying, “Hey, Katya.”

“Mm?”

“I see something _goluboy.”_

Katya smacked her self with a leather-gloved hand.

Fame played her eyebrows at Katya. “Did I stump ya?”

Katya screamed in the back of her throat. _What have I done?_

***

Hot agony.

Doberman teeth in her ankle.

All around her leg.

They’re sharing her like a buttered corn cob.

She’s held down by black weights.

The ground itself is hot coals.

She thrashes.

Another, pounces on her back.

***

Pearl sat perched on one of the lower branches of a Mesquite. She breathed deep, feeling life go into her nose, get pulled into her lungs, spread out through her chest, up her neck to her head, down her limbs, out each of her fingertips, flow into the tree. It has been many breaths. The sun has changed places in the mid-morning sky. Her unfocused eyes pick up movement. Violet moved. She threw an arm up against an imaginary villain. Pearl traced a finger along her stomach, from between her ribs to her belly button. She took stock of all the feelings inside her.

Surely, if it was poison, she’d be feeling it by now. It hadn’t taken that cousin long before he started losing water from both ends, and Pearl felt just fine.

She dropped from the branch, strode over to the scene of her butchery, grabbed the kerchief from inside the hollow, and started running back to Violet.

***

“This time of day I’d be checking the coops. Anna May’s not been laying this past few weeks. Makes me think there might be something wrong, but then again the same thing happened with Mary Jean last September and she’s laying alright now. You should see the coloring Ann Margaret’s got -- I could enter her in a contest and she’d win first prize, I’m sure. She’s so pretty…”

“I sometimes wonder how far the sky goes. She just goes and goes, and she changes color but never stops being sky…”

“Terrible unfortunate what became of Joan Martha, I was so tired from a call I didn’t do last count ‘fore lockin’ up the coop for the night and in the mornin’ there ‘as nothin’ left but bones scattered about, damn coyotes, but she was always a slow one, that Joan Martha, when she ‘as just a chick…”

“I think stars shine even at day, but sun too bright stars cannot конкурировать, they drown against солнце and when луна comes out again они снова светят and that is _just_ Прекрасный, _nyet?_ ”

“Hey Katya?’

 _“Da?_ ”

“Are we going the right direction?”

 _“Da,_ к этой горе.” Katya pointed toward a mountain in the distance.

“Okay, just wanted to make sure.”

***

_The wagon broke down with a terrible crash,_

_And out on the desert rolled all sorts of trash._

_Poor Betsy cried out as she stared at the mess,_

_Ike loaded it up and they kept headin’ West._

***

Violet’s brow is dry. Her skin is going pale. Those are bad, bad bad signs. She’s nowhere responsive enough to force feed her, and if Pearl gives her straight cactus juice it’ll kill her faster. She found herself tearing up. It was their third day. If she ran, or took Ethel at a sprint the whole way, would she make it to and from the spring in time? Images rolled through Pearl’s mind:  Violet choking on her own sick, her body tensing up, her eyes rolling back in her head, her hands reaching out for someone, _I don’t want to die alone._

Pearl shook her head feverishly. Panic took hold of her insides. She felt her throat closing up with tears and fear. She’s been holding it down for so long, keeping the panic away for so long. She cradled Violet’s head in her lap and rocked back and forth. She let the tears fall, making tracks down her dirty face. Her breathing grew ragged and she choked out over and over again “I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to do what do I do what do I do tell me what to do…”

 

***

Katya was again in danger of passing out on her horse, so they took another rest, just long enough for her to get a half hour’s shut-eye. Groggily, she lifted herself back into Storm’s saddle. Going to take a swig from the canteen Fame had filled for her, Katya was suddenly struck with a horrified thought. “Doc,” she said, her voice full of anxiety. “I left ‘em behind with one canteen.”

Fame took in a steadying breath. She knew what ill news that could bring -- two people in the desert with one canteen between them for days. Her mind flashed the memory of one call she’d made where the unfortunate souls she’d been called to heal had expired of thirst before she could get there. The smell of them, and the sight -- the scavengers had got to them before she had. She swallowed and shook her head. “You told me about the kid,” she said, looking for hope. “Raised out in the badlands. She must have some basic skills.”

Katya squirmed in the saddle. “Can we take it to a gallop? All the same?”

Fame signaled to Camanche, and they were off again, skating across the harsh desert landscape together. All the while, Katya’s heart was in her throat, her head full of worst case scenarios.

***

This was the absolute worst case scenario.

Pearl was _out_ of options. She had never had to resort to this before. Some of the cousins had tried it for fun, but… If she didn’t resort to this, Violet _would_ die.

She kneeled behind a tree, most of the way naked, and submitted to the call of nature. When she was done, she poured some out. The color wasn’t the worst she’d seen. It would have to do.

Redressing herself, she looked back at Violet. Pearl moved her earlier, when the shadows shifted for noontime. Keeping her out of the sun almost seemed silly by now, the heiress’ skin flaky and pink where exposed. Nevertheless, it was something to do, to feel useful. Going back to sit by Violet, Pearl shook her head. “If you ever find out what I’m about to do, you’re gonna wish I’d killed you when you asked.”

Violet was still breathing, just not very alert. So when Pearl elevated her head and had her open her mouth, she wasn’t so worried about Violet choking when she dropped about a spoonful into Violet’s mouth. Her eyes fluttered, and she half reached for something before her brown eyes drifted closed again. Pearl kept one hand on Violet’s windpipe to be able to feel it when she swallowed. The first couple of sips she had Violet take mostly got absorbed in her mouth. She did swallow a little, which eased Pearl’s spirits. The sun continued to stretch the shadows, and Pearl kept hydrating Violet, a little at a time.

She was stretching Violet’s time by now, she knew. Pearl cast a long look at the Western sky. She knew that if help didn’t come soon… it would be a miracle if Violet lasted to tomorrow.

***

_The horses ran off, and the cattle all died,_

_That morning the last piece of bacon was fried._

_Poor Ike was discouraged and Betsy was mad._

_The dog drooped his tail and looked terribly sad._

***

“What’s the plan?” asked Katya.

“Hm?”

“Once we reach her.”

“Oh. I have my bag and I’ll tend to her whatever she needs and whatever I can do.”

“Is that it?” Katya’s sleep deprivation had stretched beyond giddy. She was crashing quickly, her spirit worn all the way out. She’d push on, of course. As she always did. Because she had to.

“That’s it until we get her stable enough to lie in the back of the cart,” said Fame. “Then we take her to Haven.”

“Haven?” Katya echoed. Her mind worked sluggishly, reaching for what was important about that name.

“Nearest town,” explained Fame. “And there’s a fantastic apothecary there -- she’s more of a nurse, if I’m honest. Nurse, veterinarian, midwife, apothecary -- does it all.”

“A medicine woman,” said Katya.

“Yes, so that’s where we’ll be headed after we get your companion squared away.” She turned toward Katya. “Speaking of, how much longer do you figure?”

Katya’s brain was far from being able to do arithmetic, but from the lay of the land -- even though she left here at night, she knew they were getting close. “Few hours. We should reach ‘em with a while of daylight left.”

“Good,” Fame nodded quickly. “That’s good.”

***

It had been hours since Pearl had started slowly rehydrating Violet. Praise Liluye, it was working. Violet’s fits had gotten less frequent and not as bad -- a twitch here and there. Her breathing was more normal, and her spirit seemed soothed, no longer plagued by waking nightmares of angry dogs. Pearl felt a tight softness in her chest, kind of like she’d felt that first night, watching Violet come back from the other side.

But the creeping knowledge that it would not last if rescue didn’t come tonight.

Violet’s eyes, which had gone from slightly open to fully closed back and forth since the last night, opened halfway. There was a clarity in them -- a kind of clarity she hadn’t had in… Pearl had lost count.

Violet’s raw lips parted. “Pearl?”

“I’m here.” Pearl stroked Violet’s hairline.

“Am I dead?”

“Nope.” Pearl tried to smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Still stuck with me. Sorry.”

The heiress drew breath with effort. “How long’s it been?”

Pearl tried to keep the despair out of her voice, for Violet’s sake. “This is day three.” She sounded sad, tired, but there might be a grain of hope left.

Violet’s grimaced, but only halfway -- her body was still having trouble. “Pearl?” she whimpered.

“Hm?”

“Can you…” Violet still couldn’t cry, but her throat closed with a sob anyway.

“Whatever you need, I’ll try.” She couldn’t dare promise anything.

One tiny tear cut halfway down Violet’s face before drying out. “Can you sing to me?”

Pearl didn’t have a joke left in her. Nor any resistance. With her dried out, scratchy voice she began to half-sing, _“Did you ever hear tell of sweet Betsy from Pike…_ ”

***

_At last they climbed up on a very high hill,_

_And stood looking down at old Placerville,_

_Ike sighed and he said as he cast his eyes down,_

_“Sweet Betsy, my darling, we’ve got to Hangtown.”_

***

Pearl was still rocking Violet in her lap in late afternoon. They’d been able to have a couple more talks together. Violet was still pretty light in the head, so some of her questions were repeats. Pearl answered, all the same.

“How much longer?” Violet rasped.

“Not long.”

She had said it as a comforting lie, but, looking up to the western sky again, she felt her soul leap. Pearl couldn’t help it — her body reacted, wanting to jump to her feet. She ended up rousing Violet, who groaned in complaint.

“Sorry, sorry,” Pearl hissed. She grabbed her saddlebag and prepared to shove it under Violet’s head. “They’re back. Katya’s got the doctor. They’re here!” Her voice was breathy and light — it sounded barely like her.

“Really?” Violet searched her field of vision, but she was too weak to move much.

Pearl stood, waving to the two figures in the distance. Katya waved back and the other one — the doctor — lifted her hat. Pearl looked at Ethel, wondering if she ought to ride out to meet them, or if she should stay by Violet. She decided to take a walk out a ways so she could meet their rescuers on foot, only going a medium distance from Violet.

Hoofbeats were within hearing distance. A scratchy voice — Katya’s — called out “How’s she faring?”

“She’s alive,” Pearl said. They were slowing down so Pearl would be able to walk back with them. “She’d took a turn last night. I thought it was gonna be bad — would’a been if you didn’t get here when you did.”

“Well let me not delay any more.” The doc covered the rest of the distance quickly, her mount taking off like a bullet.

Katya and Pearl walked back together pretty much in silence. Katya asked about water. Pearl told her about the spring and the cactus water.

Katya hissed. “Cactus water. Dangerous.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Pearl spat. “Worked out in our favor though.”

Nearing where Violet was, they overheard Doc Fame chattering to her softly, flitting this way and that. They watched the doc sprinkle something on Violet’s injured leg. Only upon coming closer did they realize the Doc’s medicine was _moving_.

“ _Jesus_ Mary and Joseph!” Katya hissed.

Pearl merely stared in horror.

“Wha’s going on?” Violet asked, looking for Pearl.

“Nothing,” Pearl quickly answered. She crouched next to Violet in the sand, knowing better than to let the heiress look at the good doctor’s work. “Doc’s just starting to get you set. It’s gonna get so much better from here on.”

“You ready for another cap-full, miss?” asked Fame.

Violet cringed. “It’s so vile.”

“I know.” Fame nodded. “But it’ll help with the pain.”

Violet closed her eyes and relented. Fame handed Katya a vial of medicine. Katya’s eyes grew wide reading the label. She looked feverishly to Fame before cautiously pouring a small amount of the liquid into the vial’s cap and handing it to Pearl to give to Violet. Pearl took a whiff of the stuff — it smelled bitter and a little like booze. Coughing slightly, Pearl presented the cap to Violet. Holding her head slightly up to help her swallow, she tipped the medicine into Violet’s mouth. The heiress’ face contorted and her head twitched, but she swallowed. Panting slightly, she asked Fame “How long ‘til it works?”

Fame went about deftly picking grubs off of Violet’s leg, trying to do everything without Violet realizing what was happening. “Not long. It’ll seem sooner if you can keep drinking.”

Katya gave the whole medicine bottle to Pearl, who had never wished she could read so bad. She looked at the big block letters on the label. There was an _L_ (she had that letter in her name), a couple of _A_ ’s. She couldn’t guess what the stuff was that had Katya react so strong.

Violet turned her head. She had to squint her eyes, but she recognized the label. “Laudanum?!” She read, and let out a soft cackle that turned into a cough. “Alright then, fuck.”

Pearl looked to Katya anxiously. “What is it?”

“It’s for pain,” said Katya. “Though many use it for their _ahem_ spiritual pain.”

Pearl stared at the bottle. Violet shakily lifted a hand to rest on Pearl’s knee. “Pearl… I need it.”

Pearl cast a glance at Violet’s monstrous leg still peppered with maggots. She had to suppress a gag. Wordlessly, Pearl began pouring out another serving of medicine.

It took about a half hour before Violet started drifting off. Fame had removed the grubs by then and lathered on a layer of some kind of ointment. Now fame checked Violet’s heartbeat in both her wrists against her pocket watch. “Pulse is slowing,” she reported. “More regular — it’ll have to do for now.”

Getting up, the doctor looked to Katya, who had pulled her hat over her face so she could catch some rest before it was time to head off again. She looked back down at Pearl. “I’ll need help loading her into the cart,” said the Doc. “How’s your strength?”

“Good enough.” Pearl curled her hands under Violet’s arms.

Fame took hold of Violet’s feet, making Violet stir, still able to feel some of the pain. She looked to Pearl. “Did you give her the whole vial?”

Pearl held up the bottle she’d been given. “All but one swig. She dozed off before I could give her the rest.”

Fame looked real hard at Violet, her eyes barely opening, her face just somewhat perturbed. “She’s not conscious enough to give her the rest, I don’t think,” the doctor decided. Together, Pearl and Doc Fame hauled Violet into the cart Fame and Katya had dragged for miles across the badlands. Violet stirred now and then, but was always pushed back down into the drug sleep.

Pearl brought up a worry she’d had in the back of her mind since the doc had shown up. “Doc? So, Katya said the town we’re trying to get to was at least a week away.”

Fame took off her hat to fan herself with it. “She was prob’ly trying to lead you the safer way. There’s a shortcut, thankfully. Through a gap in the hills instead of going all the way around.”

Pearl felt a chill go down her back. “The… gap you’re talking about. Wouldn’t have a boulder on it that looks like a jackrabbit.”

“That’s the one.”

Pearl’s lips shook and her head spun with dread. “N… no we can’t… can’t go there.”

“I know what you’re getting queer about, Pearl. But I will keep us safe. The band that guards the gap owes me a favor.” Fame measured her voice and reached out a hand to Pearl, who didn’t respond. “It’s a risk,” Fame continued. “But if we don’t take it, she will die.”

Pearl swallowed hard and nodded to Fame. She couldn’t help from thinking, _and if we take the rabbit gap, I’m gonna be killed_.

***

_Well a miner said, "Betsy will you dance with me"_

_"I will now old Hoss if you don't make too free_

_But don't dance me hard do you want to know why_

_Doggone you I'm chocked full of strong alkali"_

 

_Ike and sweet Betsy got married of course_

_But Ike gettin' jealous obtained a divorce_

_Betsy well satisfied said with a shout_

_"Goodbye you big lummox, I'm glad you backed out"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has taken... FOUR MONTHS. in that time i completed a college semester and got a tattoo (of a barrel cactus bc I'm Very Arizona)


End file.
